Nightingale
by Mrs. Brownloe
Summary: A hardworking seamtress leaves her home of Portsmouth, England to try her fortune as an indentured servant in the colonies.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Nightingale**  
Category: Books » Twilight  
Author: Lady Gwynedd  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Romance/Drama  
Published: 06-07-11, Updated: 09-29-12  
Chapters: 39, Words: 150,955

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**Chapter 1: Portsmouth**

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**AN: I do not claim ownership of the Twilight Saga.**

**Thanks to my prereaders Miaokuancha, Roselover24, Melolable, Fantasy Mother, and my beta PrincessKris**

Portsmouth, England 1770.

"Mistress, surely it can't be that dire a circumstance?" the young woman asked, a worried frown upon her face.

"Lord help us, girl, yes. It cannot be much worse." The older woman twisted her hands in despair as she cast a frightened look around her tidy seamstress' shop.

"Mayhaps the ladies who have outstanding bills…? Can they be made to pay?"

"Tchaa." The grey-haired lady threw the handkerchief she was clutching down on the cutting table and gloomily stared out of the window into Portsmouth's high street. "They be gentle folk. Their custom is good but their bills go unpaid as often as not. I would have to hire a dunsman to stand outside their doors to plead and I have not the money for it."

"I could do that for you, Mistress Cope."

"No you could not, young woman. 'Tisn't seemly and you'd be ignored – or worse."

Sighing, the older woman continued, "I shall have to turn myself over to the constable, have my shop boarded up and be thrown into debtors' jail until I find the means to pay my note."

"But madam, how can you pay your debts if you're locked away?"

"There's only two ways, my dear. I could solicit my friends to pay my debts or my creditors could send me to toil in the work house until I've paid in full."

Sighing, Mrs. Cope continued, "For the first, my friends don't have the money, and for the second, they pay so poorly in the work house, I'd like as not die there before I was even half done."

Putting her arms about her friend, mentor, and employer, the girl asked, "What can I do to help you, mistress?"

The young woman was fond of her employer who had taken her in as an apprentice after her parents died. She learned everything she needed to know about the tailoring trade from her and could now sew as fine a seam as any.

"There be nothing you can do, child. I know what my future will be and I am resigned to it. It's yours you need to be worrying about, my girl. What will you do when all is done here?"

"I…I…I don't know," there was a tremor of fear in the girl's voice. The world in good King George's England was a bad place for a poor, family-less woman. The young woman was lucky to have been taken in by Mrs. Cope after her parents perished from putrid fevers when she was a child. Her mother and Mrs. Cope had been bosom friends as girls and when the girl was born, Mrs. Cope was named as her godmother.

She'd been a kindly mistress, and an excellent teacher. The girl could create the most intricate of costumes for both ladies and gentlemen now. In fact, as her eyes were younger, she did most of the fine work on her own, leaving Mrs. Cope for the grander designs and the shepherding of capricious clientele. That clientele had been extremely changeable lately, what with troubles in the land, and the little shop's revenues were almost nonexistent. It was always the tradesmen who got the worst of any financial turmoil. Their upper crust customers could 'forget' about their debts but the common man, or woman in this case, couldn't 'forget' about their debts to their suppliers and Mrs. Cope's had run out of patience with her.

"You could do well as a dresser for a lady," Mrs. Cope suggested.

"I am not sure, Mistress. I have no reference from a great house for that," she responded.

"Listen my girl, I will write you as fine a character as there can be then you shall pack your bag so that when the constable comes, you will be able to walk out the side door. He will lay hands on whatever he should find here whether it be mine or yours. It would make no difference to him. And I want you to have this…" she reached into her bodice, pulled out a velvet bag and tucked it into the girl's hand. "It's old, that is. I've had it from a fine lady customer of mine from long ago. She told me to keep it as it is very rare for some reason but I could not sell it. The pawnsman would only give me a few pence for it. He claimed it was not worth the thread to restring it. Besides, it's not at all the style these days. It never has been as far as I have known."

The girl pulled the draw-string and poured a necklace into her hand. She could see a relatively small choker of pearls that had a gold 'B' threaded amidst them. Three tear drop pearls dangled down from the bottom of the letter. It was an odd looking thing. Who would wear something like that around their neck? So strange. She could see that it would have been hard for Mrs. Cope to make anything from it.

"Mayhaps you'd get some use out of the thing but it might save you in a pinch. You could take it apart and sell the beads piecemeal for a few pence or so. Sew it into your chemise and don't tell anyone of it lest they feel the need to pinch it and leave you with nothing."

"Are you sure it could not be a boon to you in this terrible time, Mistress?"

"No, child. It would never realize enough to pay my debts. I want you to have it. My life is near over any way. You need to get on with yours. Now, dash away and do as I have told you."

The girl did as Mrs. Cope suggested and set her packed valise next to the door in readiness. The Constable's knock came three days later. After a hurried and tearful goodbye, she slipped out of the side door and down the alley to face her unknown future.

* * *

"_Cockles, Mussels, alive, alive oh_," the fishmonger cried out in the busy market square. The sights, sounds and smells of market day were colorful. The girl would usually be entranced by the lively activity but today her worries overruled her curiosity.

She wove her way among the booths, trying to stem her tears and reckon what to do. She had no place to go and no family to help her. Her future was precarious to say the least. She had a few coins in addition the strange necklace Mrs. Cope had given her, so she believed she could find a crust and a bed this night but after that, she was at a loss.

She rounded the corner of a stall to almost stumble against a man who was balanced upon a box and calling out to the crowd, "…_the New World awaits those who are intrepid enough to dare it. Imagine a land paved with gold and filled with bountiful harvests. Even the least among those doughty men and women who brave the journey hence soon find themselves at ease, under their own roofs and sitting at their own tables groaning with the finest food. Here be the means to find your own riches, be your own master. Come make your mark and embark in two days for Mary-land, the colony richest and kindest to the wayfarer._"

Bella stopped and wondered if God had thrown this man in her way.

Was this an omen? Could her place be in the New World?

The man said that even the merest person could be their own master and perhaps that is what she could be. She could imagine setting up her own tailoring shop and sewing for other people just like her. There would be no worrying about the gentry not paying because there weren't gentry in the New World. All men were equals there and she was sure they all paid their way as well.

She stood in the shadows of a doorway and listened to the man's descriptions of Mary-land over and over again, trying to convince herself to simply talk to him.

* * *

The sun was lowering in the sky when the man stepped off his box and dusted his hands. His nonstop patter had caused a powerful thirst and he couldn't wait to get to the tavern to slake it. He was just about to head off when he heard a low voice say, "Pardon, sir. I would talk with you about the New World."

He turned to see a neatly turned out young woman, with large brown eyes, hair as dark as a raven's wing and skin as fair as fleece. Her clothes were finely made although of plain material. She looked as though she may do for a special commission he had been given.

"Aye, lass, and what would ye be wanting to know about that fair place?"

"What must one do after the mark is made on yon paper?"

The agent, for that's what he was, laughed. This one cut straight to the bare bones, she did.

"It depends. My commissioners are looking for folk skilled in all trades as well as a few laborers. Have you a trade?"

"Aye, that I do. I am a seamstress and a tailor. I was apprenticed to Mistress Cope until recently and am now seeking further employ."

"I have never heard of Mistress Cope. Have you a character?"

"I do, sir." The young woman reached into her reticule and pulled out a much folded letter.

"This is a testament to my character and needlework abilities made by my former employer and mistress."

The man looked it over quickly and shrugged. It could be false as well as it could be true but by the time anyone found out, he would be an ocean away and long gone. Her clothes looked the part of someone skilled with a needle. He decided it would be in his favor to take her.

"It just so happens, I have a lady who seeks a seamstress and dresser, one Mistress Cullen of Annapolis, Mary-land. It seems she has two daughters that she's launching into the world and she has proposed to pay the way for a talented needlewoman to assist in the clothing and dressing of those two chits until it is done. That would constitute a servitude of three years."

"Servitude?" She was shocked to hear her honest work to be described thusly.

"Aye, girl. 'Tis a common practice. Indentured Service of only three years duration at the end of which your new Mistress will provide a small largess so you can make your way on your own."

"And in the meantime she will provide my shelter and sustenance?"

"Aye. Ye shall be her chattel those three years. Tis only sensible for her to provide well for ye. The better she treat with ye, the better the work she'll get out of ye, eh lass?"

"How do you know she is a fair person?"

"Oh, there be only fair people in the New World, missy." He laughed at his own jest but the girl did not join him. She knew there were good people as well as bad the world over but what choice did she have? She had spent the past three days looking for work, anything respectable, and had come up with nothing. That left only unrespectable work and she shuddered to think of that as her only recourse.

"So, Mistress Cullen will pay my ship's passage?"

"Aye, that she will, missy. And you can rest until sailing with the other adventurous spirits making the journey in the ship's lodging on the quay. They have a repast at half past six, so if ye hurry, you won't miss it."

"I shall join them, then. Where is this lodging?"

"First, you must make your mark. Miss…?"

"Isabella Swan."

"Verra well, Miss Swan." He got out a sheaf of papers, an ink well and a quill and indicated where she should scrawl her mark.

"I can sign my name." She took great pride in the fact she could read and write. Mrs. Cope taught her that as well as how to ply a needle. She carefully looked over the document and then signed at the bottom.

"There's a girl. You won't regret this. Now, the lodging is just down the quay, No. 4." He pointed off in that direction and gathering his papers, turned in the opposite direction and left the girl to her own devices.

Taking a deep breath, she muttered, "Well, at least I know what lies ahead for me now."

She'd remember those words with wry disgust many times in the future.

* * *

**Chapter 2: To Sea**

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Bella hefted her valise and turned to walk towards the ship's lodging, a little bemused by the sudden direction her life had taken. Her steps faltered a bit as she realized that, though she was well prepared to be a seamstress, she was ill prepared for a voyage. In fact, she knew very little about what was in her immediate future. The more she thought on it, the more she realized she needed some advice and she knew exactly of whom to ask.

Mrs. Cheney was an elderly customer of Mrs. Cope's whose main enjoyment in life was to gossip. When she'd schedule a fitting, Bella knew to clear the whole afternoon's appointments because once Mrs. Cheney started talking, there was no stopping her for hours. But though the talk about various people and their goings on could be tedious, Bella loved hearing her reminisce about the adventures she had with her now long dead sea Captain husband. Mrs. Cheney actually used to sail with that gentleman, a privilege only the wife of a captain enjoyed as all other wives and sweethearts had to be left in port. Bella was sure she could glean some useful information from the old lady and she had no qualms about imposing on her. Had she been any other customer, Bella would never have considered it but Mrs. Cheney was sweet-tempered and kind and not so 'high in the instep' as most of the members of her class.

Besides Bella cynically mused, she had something of value to offer – the details of Mrs. Cope's travails. She knew Mrs. Cheney would never resist hearing about those.

Bella strode up a street of neat houses close by the harbor. They were built of brick, and each had a fine wooden door with a shiny brass knocker. It was a well-to-do neighborhood, sheltering merchants and ship's officers alike. Coming to the house that was Mrs. Cheney's, Bella knew better than to beg entrance at the first floor door - that was only for the gentry- so she climbed down the side stairs to the nondescript door on the ground floor.

A rosy cheeked woman enveloped head to toe in a pinafore answered her knock. "Why Isabella Swan, what a surprise to see you here!"

"Oh, Nancy, I am that amazed to be here myself but it seems though I must beg a visit with your mistress. Do you think she would see me?"

"Oh aye, do ye even have to ask? This day, she has done nothing but talk about your Mistress Cope being hauled away to the poorhouse. She has been at sixes and sevens over it. I am sure you can soothe her curiosity." The apple cheeked woman laughed to think of her mistress' eagerness and opened the door wider and beckoned Bella into the basement kitchen.

"Come in and rest a bit. I was just preparing her tea. I am sure you will be invited to join her for the price of your news."

A few minutes later, Nancy ushered Bella up the stairs and down a small hall into a cozily turned out sitting room where a shawl-wrapped lady sat snoring by the fire.

"Mistress Cheney? Mistress Cheney, look who has joined ye for tea this day!" Nancy called and gently shook her lady's shoulder.

The old lady stirred and roused herself, "Er,… what?" She looked around and blinked, her wrinkled face peering nearsightedly from the depths of her lace cap reminding Bella of an owl blearily surveying its domain.

"Looky here, madam, 'tis Isabella Swan from the dressers? You remember her, don't ye?" Nancy set the tray down on the table beside her mistress as she spoke, cajoling Mrs. Cheney's memory. " 'Tis a shame about Mistress Cope isn't it, madam?"

"Oh." Mrs. Cheney sat up as she recollected the day's mischief, a sparkle in her eye betraying her eagerness to hear more. "Of course, Isabella dear, 'tis pleasant to see you, girl. But what's this sad news about your mistress? My neighbor rushed here in a bother this morning saying the shop was boarded and Mrs. Cope taken away. So tragic."

Nancy pulled a chair closer to the fire and silently bid Bella to sit near the elderly lady.

Bella gratefully smiled at the servant as she sat, "Aye, Mrs. Cheney, 'tis all too true. My mistress has been taken away."

"But why? Mrs. Cope had a tidy little business."

"She was that busy, Mrs. Cheney, except that of late her customers did not pay for their commissions. Seems now they never shall."

"Oh, dear. What's to do? What's to do?" Mrs. Cheney was truly concerned about her old friend, even though she was a tradeswoman, and began to wonder if she had left an unpaid balance with her shop.

"There be nothing to do now, madam. My mistress will have to stay in the poorhouse until her debts are paid or she has worked them off. She has hopes of neither, more's the pity." Bella sighed, tears threatening once again.

"Oh, dear." Mrs. Cheney shredded the remains of the biscuit she had been nibbling, her niggling guilt taking her appetite. "So there be no shop and no Mrs. Cope again?"

"Not in the foreseeable future, madam."

Mrs. Cheney looked worriedly at Bella and said, "What e'er shall _you_ do, my girl?"

"It seems that fate has another destiny for me. I have signed my indenture this day to a lady in Mary-land. I sail in two days."

"Oh, dear." Mrs. Cheney said again as her concern deepened. "Mary-land? In the Americas?"

"Aye. There seems to be a woman needing the assistance of a dresser to launch her daughters into the world, so she's paying my passage in trade for three year's work."

"And have you ever been asea?"

"No, madam, and I thought I would ask your advice as to how I should prepare for my journey."

"Ah lass, if asked before you made your mark, I would have told you ne'er to consider such a plan but it is too late now."

"But why? It seems a good opportunity for me. It was either that, starve … or worse, Mrs. Cheney. I had no other choice."

"Ye've signed the papers already, have you?" the old lady asked once more.

"Aye, an hour ago."

"And they did not escort you to a 'lodging' for your meal and rest before the journey?"

"No, madam, but the agent told me where to go."

"That is most unusual. Usually, they do not let the poor indentured souls out of their sight until they've boarded the ship. I am sure there's a passel of folk looking for you this minute."

Bella's eyes widened. "Truly? But why?"

"Because indentured service is simply slavery with a time limit. Your procurers are fearful you'll run off once you've thought it all through. The fact is, you are now the property of the person paying your passage. You'd best get on your knees and pray to the merciful Lord that your mistress be kind. I've heard horrible tales."

Bella's heart pounded and she repeated what the agent had told her, "She couldn't expect to get good work out of me if she mistreated me, could she?"

"There's some that believe a thorough-going use of the lash encourages diligence. Best hope this lady doesn't ascribe to that." She paused a moment, then asked with a frown, "Be there men in that household?"

"The agent just spoke of a lady and her two daughters."

"Oh, la. I shall pray for you that there be women alone in that house. A comely lass like you would be at the mercy of a salacious master."

"You mean a master would threaten my virtue?" Bella was aghast. That was something she never dreamed.

"'Tis not always the case but 'tisn't unheard of, either. Men be men after all."

"Don't you think the agent would have mentioned a gentleman if there was one?"

"Mayhaps. Mayhaps not. He could think that you'd not wish to be at the mercy of a master and would find a mistress more palatable. He didn't outright lie but he mayn't have told the whole truth, either."

In a resigned voice, Bella said, "Well, I shan't worry o'er it now. I can do nothing on it at the moment. I need to know how to ready myself for the journey. I know 'tis dangerous for the unwary."

Mrs. Cheney sighed gustily. She felt prompted to do what she could for this child. After all, she had a terrible suspicion that she contributed to Mrs. Cope's downfall. She remembered now that she hadn't yet paid for a pelisse she'd ordered from the seamstress last winter. Turning to her lurking maid she said, "The Captain's sea chest is in the lumber room still, yes?"

"Aye, madam. Hasn't been touched in years."

"Then, let us repair hence. There be things within that Captain Cheney has no use for any longer but Isabella will."

The three ladies trooped to the top of the house and ventured into a dusty room filled with old furniture and luggage. Nancy cleared a path to a humpbacked chest that had 'Captain B. Cheney' stenciled in gold paint on the lid. She flipped the latches and lifted the top as Bella and Mrs. Cheney drew near. Nancy pulled a stool over for her mistress to sit upon and the old lady sank down on it gazing nostalgically at the chest's contents.

Mrs. Cheney reached in and pulled out a woolen jacket. She held it to her nose and inhaled. "Ah, it smells of the sea and my dear husband." A tender smile softened her face. "He was a good man and a fine captain. We had a good life together."

After a few moments reflection, the widow sighed and started rooting around in the chest. "Let's see. I know my man had one in here somewhere… ah, ha!" She pulled out what looked like a small roll of sailcloth and handed it to Bella. "Here. 'Tis just the thing."

Bella looked at her benefactor in puzzlement, "But what is it?"

" 'Tis a hammock. Ships be leaky things, you'll be surprised to discover. You don't want to be resting against the hull or on the deck, else ye'll be soaked through by morning, so ahoist in the air is the answer. There will be rings to hang your hammock from at night and you'll sleep like a baby being rocked at his ma'ams breast. And here, use this blanket as well. 'Tis woven out of fine Welsh wool and will keep you warm during the coldest nor'easter." She stacked the blanket on top of the hammock roll.

"Why thank you ma'am. I'd never have thought of it."

"No, you wouldn't have until you were wet and freezing. Now, here. Take these as well." She gave her a stack of napkin-like cloths. "These are oil cloth, well broken in. You wrap anything you wish to keep dry in them and put them in your chest. Oh… you need a good chest." She rose to her feet. "The Captain's is much too big. I have a smaller one in my chamber. Come with me."

She led the way down two flights of stairs to her bedroom and in a corner was a smallish chest resting on the floor. "This was the chest I'd take with me when I'd go to sea. It has been varnished inside and out and so will keep all within dry as a hen bone. 'Tis small enough that I could handle it myself, yet I could stow much inside."

Under Mrs. Cheney's directions, Nancy opened the chest and started emptying its contents.

"Now, child, put the hammock, blanket, and oil cloths within. And I've some other things you may find handy." She opened up a nearby wardrobe and reached into the very back, pulling out a long cloak. "This is the finest tightly woven Melton wool. It has kept me dry during the fiercest gale. Also, these boots may be a little large for you but they are water tight. Stuff rags in the toes for the fit but make sure to always keep your feet clean and dry. Many illnesses start in the feet and wet feet lend themselves to all sorts of bad humours."

Bella was overwhelmed. She came for advice, not goods. "Mrs. Cheney, this is too much, you are too generous. You can't give this to me. I could never repay you."

"Pish posh lass, I shall never use them again. 'Tis little enough I do for you. I owe your Mistress at least this much."

The old lady pulled some paper and an ink well out of her desk and started to write, "Nancy, trot down to the apothecary and get the items on this list. We now have to see to Isabella's health aboard ship.

"Isabella, you will stay here until it is time to board. It will take us at least that long to get all to the ready."

"Oh, Mrs. Cheney, 'tis too much," Bella protested again.

"Shhhh, lass. I want to help you. It brings back such vivid and happy memories for me."

They spent the rest of the evening preparing tonics and 'sea biscuits' – hard wafers that would keep for a long journey, even if one feared losing a tooth whilst eating them.

The night before she was to board, Bella lay abed in Mrs. Cheney's house, her heart beating painfully fast. She was as ready as she could ever be. The day before, a note had been sent to the agent, informing him of Bella's whereabouts and promising that she would report as promised the morning they departed. Within an hour of receiving the missive, the agent and ships doctor visited Mrs. Cheney's house to examine the state of Bella's health. If she had a communicable disease, she would not be allowed to embark. Fortunately, the doctor found nothing wrong and she was cleared for passage.

Mrs. Cheney had spent long hours teaching Bella the ways of the sea going life, including many things she'd not given a moment's thought before. Using the items Nancy brought back from the apothecary, the three women labored over preparing tinctures and tonics designed to keep Bella in good health.

One, she was to take every morning and night to ward off her monthly course. There was little privacy aboard and no facility for washing clothes, much less the rags she used to staunch her flow. It was better not to have to concern herself with it during the voyage.

Mrs. Cheney advised her to change her undergarments weekly but to wear the same sturdy frock throughout the journey. "You'll be ripe smellin' by the end of your voyage but then, so will everyone else. That's why there be bath houses right near the docks. Save a coin for that and you will be all to the good when you get to your mistress' house."

She taught her to use the small closely stoppered cask that could be strapped into the inside of her sea chest to store her allotment of water and to add the tot of rum she would be issued weekly to it to keep it fresh. In addition to that, she was to add a spoonful of bottled lemon juice, one of the sundries the apothecary had provided, to prevent her teeth from loosening during the voyage from the scurvy.

Any food she was given could be eked out with the hard sea biscuits they had prepared. They weren't too bad if they were soaked in water or coffee first and certainly better than starving. After being wrapped in oiled cloth, they'd keep for many months.

It shocked Bella to learn that sometimes half of the passengers on a trans-Atlantic journey died en route. It depended upon how long they were at sea, the health of the passengers at the start, how well provisioned the ship was and the profit margin the investors expected to make on the voyage. Keeping the passengers fed just enough to ward off starvation insured a greater return for the money men. The debate was how much was 'just enough.' So, she had yet another thing to pray for - that her ship be managed humanely.

Mrs. Cheney had sent for the shipping news and found that the good ship _Patience_ was departing Portsmouth bound for Annapolis, Maryland after a short stop in Cowes on the Isle of Wight. The old lady was happy to note that she personally knew the third officer and she wrote a letter of introduction for Bella asking that he keep watch over her during the journey. Depending upon the weather, the voyage could last from a little over a month to as many as three months but the usual journey was around six weeks asea.

Bella rolled over onto her stomach, trying to get comfortable, her last night ashore, her last night in a bed for weeks, perhaps months. That evening, Mrs. Cheney insisted that she take a hot bath and scour her body with fine Castile soap. Among her various vials and ointments, there was a salve of camphor that Bella was instructed to daily anoint the nape of her neck and her temples to try to keep away the scourge of living closely with others – lice. In fact, Mrs. Cheney herself cut Bella's waist length hair to a bob just to her shoulders, which was a true grief to the girl.

"Now, 'tis not the time to be vain, my dear. You may have noticed that no sea captain's wife has long locks and vermin be the reason. Your hair will grow back eventually. Long hair attracts those nuisances like nothing else. But you may find you like the convenience of shorter hair."

Bella cried a bit that night for her hair and, if she'd let herself admit it, for her future. She recognized that she was frightened. There was so much she didn't know, so much she had to fear. She thanked God for inspiring her to go to Mrs. Cheney. She was overwhelmed with the old lady's help but it was help she now knew she had desperately needed.

The next day dawned bright and fair. Bella was up before dawn and was packed and ready to depart shortly after that.

"Mistress Cheney, thank you so much for your aide and advice. I'd like as not have died without your wisdom."

"'Tis the truth, true enough, and you still are in peril but perhaps not as much as you would have been. God speed, my lass." She handed Bella a franked paper and added, "Once you reach Annapolis, please send me word of your safe arrival. I want to know how you go on, my dear."

"Certainly, Mrs. Cheney, and thank you." Hugging the kind lady, she bid her adieu and then hugged Nancy as well.

"Thank you both. Your kindnesses will truly be my salvation." With that she signaled to the boy who was going to carry her chest down to the docks on his push cart and they both set off for the _Patience_, and Bella's destiny.

Mrs. Cheney watched the girl depart with a grim smile, "Well, we've done what we could for her, Nan. 'Twas the least we could do. Now, let us see what's to be done for her Mistress. Send for my carriage, my girl. We've a call to make."

* * *

**Chapter 3: _The_ _Patience_**

* * *

As Bella drew near to where _The Patience_ was docked, the crowd and busy-ness grew until her progress slowed to a halt. The seagulls' raucous cries almost drowned out the sailors on the dock as they shouted directions to their mates who were operating a gyre that swung nets full of cargo over the side and into the ship's hold.

This gave Bella a chance to take stock of the vessel that was to be her conveyance to the New World. From_ The_ _Shipping Times_ she learned that_ The_ _Patience _was a brig and had made the crossing many times. Her home port was Philadelphia in the colony of Pennsylvania. She was a merchanter, shipping agricultural produce from the colonies and émigrés to them. On this trip, she would stop over at Annapolis on her way to her home port.

Bella was surprised at the ship's small size. She had no idea how more than two hundred and fifty passengers would fit within, much less the additional one hundred and twenty-four man crew. For sure, they'd be stacked like cordwood.

Finally, Bella and the cart boy reached the gangway that led to the main deck of the ship. There was an official looking gentleman standing on the dock at its foot with a list in his hand. Bella noticed that all who boarded the ship first spoke with him. It seemed likely that she would need to speak to him as well.

"Pardon me, sir, are passengers boarding _The_ _Patience_ now?"

"Aye, ma'am, that they are." He had a strange accent. She'd never heard the like before.

"Then, I would like to board, sir."

"Your name, ma'am?"

"Miss Isabella Swan."

He ran his finger down his list and stopped near the bottom, "Ah, yes. Here you are. Do you have stowage?"

"Just this chest, sir, and that I can carry myself if I am shown the way."

"That lad can carry it for you. He looks sturdy enough." The man nodded at the cart boy who was getting ready to heave Bella's chest onto the dock.

The boy looked frightened, "My master would have me bones if I'm not returned to him within the hour."

"Boy, no one wants to keep ye, just help the lady with her gear."

Grumbling, the boy shouldered the chest and started to follow Bella up the gangway but Bella stopped and turned to the gentleman. She had just remembered her letter of introduction and said, "I have a letter for _The_ _Patience_'s third officer, sir. Could you point him out to me?"

"But surely, I can miss. I am that gentleman."

Bella smiled and handed him Mrs. Cheney's letter. "I bid you greetings from Mrs. Benjamin Cheney, sir."

"Old Captain Cheney's wife? She was a kind soul. She nursed me through a bout of the grippe when I was just a lad gone to sea for the first time. How does she fare?" He took the letter from Bella and read it through quickly.

Smiling from ear to ear with his eyes twinkling at Bella, he said, "She says that you are her protégé and that I am to look to your welfare. That starts this moment." He turned to another crewman who was standing nearby, "'Vast, James! Look lively, man. Come here and run this list. I have other work to do."

A smirking, greasy looking sailor sauntered over and looked Bella up and down in a most forward manner. Bella's new protector scowled at him, "Mind your manners, cockerel."

James pulled his forelock and dipped his head, never once removing the leer from his face, "Morning, ma'am."

Bella nodded tersely at him and then turned to the Third Officer and said, "Please, sir, I've no wish to be a burthen to you."

Shaking his head, he bowed, "No protégé of Mrs. Cheney's would ever be a burden to me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Emmett McCarty of Annapolis, Maryland at your service, miss."

Bella curtsied in response and smiled. "I am destined for Annapolis, Mary-land, sir. No wonder your tongue seems a little strange to me. Do all in the New World have such a cast to their words?"

"Like any place, ma'am, how you speak depends upon from whence you hail. You'll find that out soon enough. There be folk from all over on this ship, both passengers and crew."

"Tell me sir, do you know of a Mistress Cullen and her two daughters who live in Annapolis."

Mr. McCarty blinked and caught his breath then let out a hesitant, "Aye. I know the family."

"Do ye? 'Tis Mistress Cullen that has bought my service but I know naught about them except that the girls are coming of age and have need of a seamstress and a dresser."

"I suppose that would be about right. The last I saw of them, they were close to grown."

"Be they a kind family?"

Mr. McCarty laughed bitterly, "It depends on how you call kind. They can be kind enough but a household of women tends to be a flighty place, in my opinion. You'll never know when you might be caught in crossfire."

_So there are no men in the household. That's to the good but Mr. McCarty's tone sounds ominous, _Bella thought. "Do you think they'll be kind to a servant?"

"I think they'll be thoughtless but not cruel. I am sure they'll expect you to work your fingers to the bone but they seem fair enough. I am sure they'll hold to the contract they made with ye. Let's get aboard so I can show ye the ship."

Turning to the cart boy standing nearby, he said "We do not need your further service after all." He relieved him of Bella's chest and sent him off with a coin.

"Come follow me, Miss Swan, and I'll show you the best space to claim below deck."

He led her up the gangway and so, she took her first step onto the ship. She was impressed with how tidy the deck was and how well orchestrated was the work. There were two uniformed officers, dressed similarly to Mr. McCarty standing in the stern of the ship observing all that was happening. They nonchalantly watched as the third officer led Bella to an open hatch and down the steep stairway to the deck below.

"The women will be housed on this deck towards the stern, the men will be towards the bow on the deck below this one." He led her past crates, sacks and barrels stacked to the beams and knots of sailors merrily working to pile even more within. After maneuvering around the work parties they found themselves in an open area. "Here ye be. Women's quarters." As of yet, there were no other women onboard that Bella could tell.

Setting her chest down on the deck, Mr. McCarty said, "The sail lofts are softer than the deck, so I'd choose those to sleep upon."

"Oh, but Mrs. Cheney gave me a hammock for the purpose."

"Did she now? That's splendid. Then, over here's where you should doss down." He led her to the side where he had to bend over to walk. "You can only fit one hammock here so it will give you a stitch of privacy. Just tie your lines to that iron ring hanging here and the other to that post over there. We'll lash your chest below it so it won't slide around in a swell and you'll be right as rain."

"Thank you, sir. I am that grateful." Bella watched as he tied her chest tightly to the beam.

When finished, he arose and backed out to where he could stand upright. "Let me show you the heads and where to get your rations. And then I'll point out the places you shouldn't go."

Bella was thankful for his consideration, especially the little things she'd never know except from trial and error.

They walked toward the bow of the ship and Mr. McCarty pointed to a doorway, "There are the heads. That one has two seats, so you may prefer the one on the other side for privacy's sake." Bella peered into a tiny cabin with a seat set into the hull, she knew at a glance what the head was for and blushed.

"I have ne'er heard a necessary called that before."

Mr. McCarty laughed, "'Tis because they are at the head of the ship. The wind carries what flies from it away and the waves that wash o'er it cleanse it right enough, though sometimes in rough seas, the unsuspecting user may have his nether regions washed as well… though perhaps I shouldn't have said as much to a lady." He looked at her doubtfully, fearing he'd insulted her sensibilities.

Bella couldn't suppress her amused grin, "I am sure 'twould be a strange and cold baptism indeed, sir."

Mr. McCarty sighed in relief. He wasn't used to handling fine ladies and Bella was just about as fine a lady as he'd dealt with in a while. Her manner of speech, the way she was dressed, how she held herself spoke of someone who ranked above the typical gutter snipes they usually transported. He couldn't imagine her as a servant, especially for the Cullen harpies. He'd have to remember to consider his language in the future, having no wish to offend her.

He led her down amidships to a half door or as some called it, a dutch door, one that could be closed at the bottom but opened at the top. "This is where you'll receive your weekly provisions. They don't allot much but sometimes the captain allows an additional measure depending."

"Depending on what?"

Mr. McCarty snorted. "Mainly his mood and that can be affected by how smoothly the sailing goes, or how the men are behaving, or sometimes how his wife is treating him."

He stopped. Why was he telling this lass all of this? He was usually more circumspect. There was something about her that just made him babble away like a guinea hen.

"Is his wife on this journey?" Bella inquired.

"No, not this time. She's still in Philadelphia having just presented the captain with a twig to his family tree three weeks before we put to sea. I am sure he is itching to get back to her and the babe. He'll push this ship until it flies."

He ducked under a beam and then pointed beyond where Bella had stowed her belongings, "There is the officers' domain, ma'am. Off limits to all but those invited back there."

Bella nodded her understanding. Mr. McCarty pointed down another hatchway in the deck, "And that's where the men passengers and the crew will be staying. Best to stay away from that part as well."

He led her back up the stairs they came down originally. "Now, ma'am, the main deck is a busy place. You are welcomed to venture here but you must stay out of the way of the work. The officers will be found toward the stern of the ship, so you're best to stay towards the bow. We sail in two hours for Cowes where we will take on the remaining passengers and the next high tide will see us asea and our voyage will truly begin. I have one thing I wish to give of you before I go back to my labors. Please wait here for my return." With that Emmett rushed back down the hatchway to the deck below. A few minutes later he was back and he handed her a key. "I've loaned you a lock for your chest. As it stood, it would keep out the animal vermin but not the human kind. I've all ready attached it. Here's the key. Keep it safe. You can return it to me at the end of our voyage."

Bella took the key with much gratitude. She hadn't thought of thievery but she was sure that it happened even amongst the most civilized society.

"I don't know how to thank you, sir."

"'Tis simple, Miss Swan. Survive the journey in hale and hearty body and spirits so I can report to my old benefactress that I did my pleasurable duty by you. Come see me if you have need of anything. Now, I must away."

Bella waved as he trotted back down the gangway and decided that she would find a quiet place on the main deck to sit and watch the ship be readied for her voyage. She saw the place on the deck that no one seemed to traverse was the bow and so, as Mr. McCarty suggested, she went there and settled in against the gunwale and studied all that was transpiring around her. A few minutes later, she noticed a flock of people being shepherded down the street to _The_ _Patience _by several men, one of whom she recognized as the agent she met at the market two days previously. These must be her fellow indentured servants making the voyage with her. There were about a dozen rough looking men and a handful of bedraggled women, nowhere near the hundreds that _The_ _Shipping Times_ advertised _The_ _Patience_ accommodating. They must be picking up the majority of passengers in Cowes.

Bella thought perhaps she could help the new women get settled below so she carefully wove her way among the bustle on deck and down the main hatchway to where they were being housed. She sat on her sea chest awaiting them and soon enough the sailor, Mr. James, who took over the list for Mr. McCarty when she boarded, was ushering five women down the crowded deck.

"Now, ladies, you'll find yourselves comfortable enough here. The ship's stores will open once we are asail. You will each be issued a blanket, your water and plate tins along with this week's rations of food and drink. If ye have any questions, just ask for Mr. James James and I shall be at your bidding."

He looked around, seemingly well pleased with himself and spied Bella sitting quietly. With a hungry gleam in his eye, he sauntered over as the other women started disposing themselves of their meager belongings.

"Aye there, Miss Swan, are ye settled then?" He stood directly in front of her, so that she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"I am indeed, Mr. James."

He smirked as he looked down at her, "Just let me know if ye have a need. 'Twould be my delight to help such a bonny lass as yourself."

Bella scooted around so she could stand up away from Mr. James. Though his words were pleasant, something about him made her stomach twist. She was wary, so she only said, "I thank you, sir."

He took a step closer. "I could be your good friend, Miss Swan. The best of friends…" his voice trailed off suggestively.

Bella shuddered but said, "That's a kind offer, sir." But that was one offer she had no intention of claiming. This man gave her goose-flesh in a bad way. She planned to stay very clear of Mr. James in the future.

Suddenly a stentorian voice shouted, "JAMES, REPORT TO YOUR DUTY STATION."

A tall, thin man dressed in officer's clothes stood in the passageway glaring at Mr. James who hopped to attention. "Aye-aye, Sir!" And he dashed for the hatchway and was gone in seconds.

The Captain, for that was whom Bella assumed he was, stared at her then looked around at the other women who had paused in their chatter. In a softer but no less stern voice he said, "You will not interfere with my crew. Do you understand me?"

All the women nodded in ready agreement. None of them wanted to run afoul of this man, especially as he would have control over life and death during their voyage.

He cleared his throat and said, "We are now setting sail for Cowes and will be there by e'en-tide. We'll quickly take on our remaining passengers and afterwards the articles concerning the operation of this ship and your deportment will be explained to you."

He paused and looked grimly at the women gathered there on the deck. "I expect them to be followed to the letter. You will all stay below until we have set sail." With that he wheeled around and stomped up the hatchway to the main deck.

Bella and her companions stared at each other with huge eyes. After a few moments, one middle-aged woman broke their stunned silence by saying, "And, I dare say me ducks, that will be exactly that!"

They were finally at sea making the short journey from Portsmouth to Cowes. As they had been told, as soon as they got to sea the passengers were issued their rations and Bella was glad to have her cask for her water at the ready. She added the lemon juice as Mrs. Cheney told her, tucked the thin blanket into the chest and wrapped her bread up in one of the oiled cloths. She felt satisfied as she shut and locked its lid. Some of the women were similarly equipped but others had nothing. They were told to add their water to the communal barrel and trust that others wouldn't take more than their share.

There was a fine breeze and so they made good time according to Mr. McCarty. Bella went up on the main deck as soon as she was able. The bouncing of the vessel on the waves was already disagreeing with some of her fellow passengers and the sounds and smell of the resulting sick caused her own stomach to heave. The fresh air helped dissipate her queasiness quite readily.

It was thrilling to watch the men as they worked aloft, furling a sail here, unfurling it there, and pulling on ropes. They were so sure-footed high in the sky standing on the lines as they pulled in the sails. The officers stood below shouting orders as needed. Bella was intrigued. She could watch them work all the day long.

In good time, they neared the port of Cowes and Bella was sent below by Mr. McCarty, explaining that there wouldn't be time to fetch her out of the sea if a hurrying sailor should chance to knock her overboard. He said it with a smile but she could understand why it was necessary to go below. However, the smell that assaulted her nose the minute she got down the stairs was distressing. It seemed that many of her companions had discovered their stomachs weren't used to the motion of the ship.

Stepping around some moaning victims, she got to her small corner and opened her chest once again. She dug around inside until she found the spearmint concoction Mrs. Cheney said was just the thing for an unhappy stomach. She took a sip, then fetched out the small cloth sachet that had been infused with mint oil.

Closing and locking the lid of her chest she sat upon it and pressed the sachet to her nose praying that her growing queasiness would not result in seasickness. She was glad to find the mint calmed her stomach right down. She hoped this would pass quickly and that they'd get used to the rolling of the ocean soon enough. The rocking settled down as they entered the port of Cowes and once they got the lines tied, everyone felt much improved.

A sailor she'd never seen before came down the hatchway with a bucket and a mop and started cleaning up the sick. When he was done, he told the ladies to use the buckets set out against the walls of their enclosure during future episodes. They would be responsible for cleaning up in the future. Bella was grateful that someone cared enough to see to them this first time.

They were learning that the Captain was a man of his word and soon a stream of people started coming down the hatchway; the new passengers. Bella was surprised to hear their speech. It was of no language she had ever heard before and she began to wonder how they'd get along not being able to converse with the English crew. How would someone explain the articles to them? She smiled at them as they entered, one after the other until there was hardly anywhere to stand, much less to sit. Bella was glad the men were separated from them. She could not imagine living cheek by jowl with strange men. Being this close to strange women was difficult enough.

After a while, she heard the commotion that accompanied casting off and the ship started moving again. _The Patience_ finally headed out for the open sea. Bella said a small prayer for their safety and swift passage. She sat there on her chest, feeling bubbles of worry stirring around the vicinity of her heart, so she tried to quell her fears by singing a song to herself. Though Mistress Cope said she had a sweet voice, she didn't sing aloud for fear of disturbing her companions but thinking about music calmed her.

The new passengers were given their rations and truly they seemed to be a bit more prepared for the journey than the rest had been. For one, they weren't as green about the gills as the Portsmouth people were. Perhaps they had had experience in voyaging before they got to Cowes.

In a while, Mr. McCarty came down the hatchway with a gentleman. He cleared his throat and said in a loud voice, "We have cleared Totland head and so Captain Laurent bids you all to come to the main deck. Do not congregate to only one side else you shall upset the applecart, as they say. You will be read the Articles of Passage of the good ship _Patience."_ The man that was with him started babbling a guttural gibberish and Bella figured he was explaining to the foreigners what Mr. McCarty had said.

The passengers slowly wended their way up the stairs where they were directed by sailors to stand evenly around the deck facing the stern where the officers and what looked to be a man of the cloth stood silently watching the gathering crowd. It had continued to be a bright day and the winds pushed the brig along apace. Bella was glad that she had thought to wear Mrs. Cheney's cape on deck as the wind was brisk.

Suddenly a sailor blew a screel on his silver whistle and silence descended over the crowd. The Reverend stepped forth and said, "Let us bow our heads and open our hearts to the Holy Ghost." The gentleman who had translated below did the same now and so all present ducked their heads and some folded their hands in an attitude of prayer.

The Reverend, with the interpreter following after him, went on to pray, "Praise, honour, and glory be to the Lord of heaven and earth! Lord of peace, Lord of joy! Thy countenance maketh my heart glad. Lord of glory, Lord of mercy, Lord of strength, Lord of life, and of power over death, and Lord of lords, and King of kings! In the world there are lords many, but to us there is but one God the Father, of whom are all things; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things: to whom be all glory, who is worthy! Let thy benevolent spirit guide this vessel and her masters so that our voyage be without incident except those of thy will, oh Lord. Oh! that everyone would strive to put down in themselves, mastery and honour, that the Lord of heaven and earth might be exalted! Amen"

All repeated "Amen" after him and Bella found she was quite taken with the prayer. It was uplifting and calmed her spirits.

The Captain, for some reason, glared at the minister then turned to look at his passengers and spoke in the same harsh voice he had used earlier below. "I am Captain William Laurent of Philadelphia, the Supreme Lord and Master of this vessel." He glared once again at the unabashed minister, and then continued, "God helps those who help themselves first and I expect a smooth and fast sailing to our next port of call, Annapolis, Maryland. I require precise adherence to the Articles of Passage of this ship. They will be posted in both English and German so that no one may claim ignorance of them. Each violation will be dealt with immediately and firmly. Mr. McCarty, please read the Articles."

Mr. McCarty stepped forward with a scroll of paper that he unrolled and started to read in a booming voice, "The Articles of Passage for the good ship Patience, out of Philadelphia, in His Royal Highness' colony of Pennsylvania.

"Article One: All persons shall remember and honor the Sabbath Day. No work other than what keeps the ship afloat and flying towards port shall be performed and all upstanding persons shall attend prayer service held on the main deck in clement weather and below deck otherwise. Those not attending service will be denied their weekly allotment.

"Article Two: As cleanliness is next to Godliness, all passengers and crew shall keep their person and kip as tidy as is possible. All women shall cover their hair and all men shall wear shirts. Communal wash water will be available twice per week as is available. Those who do not meet standards, man, woman, or child, will be forcibly cleansed at the gratings.

"Article Three: All men and women shall not mix below decks, women will stay to their billet, men to theirs. Those who violate this rule will be confined to bilboes for the duration of the journey.

"Article Four: There will be no gambling or casting of lots of any kind aboard ship. Violators will be confined to bilboes in the hold for the duration of the journey.

"Article Five: The officers' quarters and mess are off limits unless under invitation. Violators will be confined to bilboes for the duration of the journey.

"Article Six: Thou shall not thieve from ships stores or thineselves. Violators will be disembarked.

"Article Seven: Passengers will remain below deck at the Captain's discretion. Violators will be chained in bilboes in the hold for such a time as the Captain chooses.

"Article Eight: Each person will husband his own rations, insuring they will last throughout the journey. Those who do not manage well will go hungry, thirsty or cold through his own doing."

"Article Nine: Any person found guilty of mutinous or treasonous actions and words will be disembarked.

Article Ten: As God is in heaven, so the Captain is on this ship and will judge all matters great and small, his word being the utmost and last. Those who choose to dispute this will be disembarked."

Mr. McCarty finished and stepped back. Captain Laurent turned to the passengers who were listening attentively and said, "The Articles are simple enough and they will be enforced diligently and without prejudice to all, crewmen and passengers alike."

He paused and swept a glaring eye over the multitude at his mercy for the next two months then said with finality, "You are dismissed."

There was a general murmur as most of the passengers filed below deck. Bella decided to stay above as long as she could. She was warm enough in her cloak and the air was much fresher here than below. She found a quiet place near the prow and settled down to think about all that had happened that momentous day. She chuckled to herself when she remembered the glare the Captain gave the Preacher after his prayer which she now realized was in direct contrast to the last Article read that day. She reckoned that was an ongoing dispute between preacher and captain.

Emmett McCarty discovered her as he was making his rounds, "Ah, Miss Swan, how have ye settled?"

"Well enough, Mr. McCarty. I do have a question to put to you."

He nodded, encouraging her to ask.

"What did it mean in the Articles where it said, _the violator will be disembarked_?"

Mr. McCarty said, "It means, dear Miss Swan, that the poor miserable fool that flouts those particular rules will be thrown overboard so he can swim to dry land. It's best just to follow the rules, don't you think?"

**AN: **

**A gyre is a wooden crane used aboard sailing ships to move heavy loads from the dock to the ship's holds or from the holds to the docks. It is manned by several men who push a wheel around and around in a circle winding up and unwinding the ropes that are on a series of pullies.**

**The prayer was one I paraphrased from a Quaker website. It was attributed to the founder of Quakerism, George Fox, in the 1600s.**

**A Bilboe is a creature who inhabits Middle Earth and lives in a nice little hole in the ground. No? Wrong story? Actually in 18th century seafaring life, a bilboe was a leg shackle also called Irons because they were made out of - iron. **

* * *

Chapter 4: Asea

* * *

Bella wished God would strike her dead exactly where she lay. That jade, _The Patience,_ was working in concert with the equally impish ocean to make Bella feel as though the devil himself had reached down her insides, grabbed her toes, and pulled her wrong-side out. The tinctures Mrs. Cheney had sent helped a little at first but now they were useless. If only this terrible storm would ease up, she knew she would feel so much better.

As she swayed in her hammock, she could hear her fellow passengers moaning in similar distress, or at least the ones that had embarked with her in Portsmouth. The Germans seemed impervious to the tossing of the ship and they moved about the deck easily. Bella had been so overcome with sickness that she hadn't paid much attention to her companions. Trying desperately to hold on to the little bit of victuals she had been able to eat, her consciousness had been given over only to the state of her innards. Occasionally, she'd be able to drift off into a dizzying sleep only to be jolted awake by another onset of nausea.

After three days of feeling like death, she decided she needed fresh air to clear her head no matter how the ocean churned. She blearily wrapped herself in her heavy cloak and was making her way to the hatchway, stepping over the other prostrate women on the deck.

"Miss Swan, ye look fair green about the gills. Have ye been ill?"

She turned at the sound of the kind voice of Emmett McCarty to find him approaching from the direction of the officer's quarters.

"A mite, Mr. McCarty." She grimaced and then asked, "Prithee, when will this fearsome gale be over?"

He laughed. "Gale, Miss Swan? This be fine, fair weather. The captain's got every bit of canvas stretched and we're flying to Maryland as quick as can be. If it 'twas a gale, you'd know it well enough."

Bella couldn't imagine the decks heaving worse than they currently did and earnestly prayed at that moment that a gale never came their way; for surely she would die.

"Get ye up topside, Miss Swan. The fine air will do ye well." He caught her elbow as he led her towards the hatchway and helped her up the stairs only to find to her surprise sunny skies dotted with cottony clouds and full sails billowing in the wind. Thanking Mr. McCarty as he left for his duties, she made her way over to the side and clung to the railings. She looked out over the waves and could see for herself that they were but gentle swells. They seemed so steep when she was down below. The crew was cheerily going about their work as if all was well with the world and the sea.

She inhaled a lung-full of the fresh air and immediately felt much improved. Sinking down onto the deck in a sheltered corner, she turned her face up to the warm sun shining high above. For the first time in days she felt more herself, thank God.

She must have dozed off a bit for she was startled awake by a cranky voice, "Aye miss, ye can't roost here. This be where I do me work."

Her eyes popped open and she took in the form of a grizzled sailor carrying a roll of sail cloth on his shoulder and a bag at his hip.

"Oh, I do apologize, sir. I had no knowledge this part of the deck was reserved."

The man snorted, "Truth be told, every part of the deck is reserved for something or another. For many it is catch as catch can but by Captain's orders, this part is reserved for my tasks."

Bella arose but her curiosity got the best of her, "What are your duties, sir?"

"I be the sail-maker of the good ship _Patience_ and the only one. Usually, I have an apprentice working with me but the last one took sick on the voyage to England and died. I have much to do and little time to do it." With no further notice of Bella, he proceeded to unroll the fabric he was carrying and sit cross-legged like a tailor on the deck. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a needle-case. The needles were oversized and Bella understood they'd have to be sturdy to ply the canvas sailcloth.

Standing a little off to the side, Bella continued to watch the sailmaker as he struggled to push the needle through the resisting material. She could tell at a glance that it was too dull for the job. Well, she could help him with that. Quickly, she went down to her sea chest and searched out the work box that contained her professional tools. She picked up the pin cushion and after locking her chest, returned to the sail maker.

"Let me assist you with that needle," she said as she extended her hand.

Surprised, the man stopped trying to force the needle through the resisting cloth and looked up at Bella but he didn't hand over his needle.

"Truly sir, by trade I am a seamstress and I can tell your needle is not sharp enough for its duty. I can mend it for thee, if ye wish." Bella continued to hold out her hand and the man reluctantly put the needle he was using in it.

Bella took the needle up and deftly plunged it into her pin cushion over and over again as quick as she could. It didn't take too long before the needle passed easily through the material. Smiling, Bella handed it back to the befuddled man. "Here ye be— as sharp as a sliver, now."

He gingerly took the needle, pushed it into the sailcloth and was shocked when it almost slipped right through before he could get a grip on it from the other side.

"Bedamme, it parts the cloth like it were butter. How did ye do it, miss?"

"This pin cushion is a secret of the trade, sir. 'Tis filled with sand grains as fine as nits. Packed tightly together in a sturdy cotton bolster, they act to sharpen needles and pins alike. Have you any more needing sharpening?"

"I do, miss, and thank ye." He handed over the needle case and Bella dutifully sharpened each needle she found in it.

"I shall have to get me one of them there cushions," the sail maker said, eyeing the item appreciatively.

"Visit with a seamstress or tailor in the next town ye alight in. They're to be sure to have one but whilst we sail together, mine is at your service."

"That's kind of ye, miss. By the by, my name is Charles Washington." He pulled his forelock as he spoke.

Bella extended her hand, "I am Miss Isabella Swan, Mr. Washington."

He took her hand in his and said, "I go by Charlie. I probably wouldn't recognize who Mr. Washington was unless me old da was around and since he's been in the good Northampton soil these ten years past, I'd be looking for his shade if ye were to use it."

Bella giggled, "'Tis only fair, if I call you Charlie, that you call me Isabella. We are equals in trade of a sort."

Charlie nodded and grinned, "That we are, Miss Isabella. Now I'd best be getting busy on this shroud. The poor gent who met his maker this morning has need of it."

Bella gasped, "Someone has passed?"

"Aye, poor soul. If ye ask me, he was sickly before he came aboard. He'll be the first of many, though. 'Tis a sorry lot we took aboard in Portsmouth."

"I came aboard in Portsmouth." Bella was worried he considered her a part of that sorry lot.

"Did ye, Miss Isabella? That surprises me. I didn't see ye board with the rest."

"I embarked earlier than they but I am a part of that group."

Charlie cast a worried look at Bella, "So ye've sold yerself as an indentured?"

Her voice was shaky when she responded, "I have, sir."

The gruff man nodded. "I'll pray yer master be a good one."

"I shall as well, Mr. Charlie."

Over the next week, Bella completely recovered from her seasickness and as a consequence, she spent most of the daylight hours on the main deck. If Charlie was there, she sat by him having developed a friendship with the sail maker. As he claimed, he had much to do. There were always sails to be mended. In order to make the trip as fast as possible, Captain Laurent had as many aloft as he could manage. That put much stress on the canvas, so Charlie was always looking for potential weaknesses. The man worked as long as the light was good enough to see by.

As Bella had seen, Charlie was also responsible for making the shrouds for passengers and crew alike who had died on the journey. So far, they all had stood solemnly by twice as the Reverend did his duty by the departed before consigning them to the sea. If the deceased had a hammock, its material was put to use for a shroud otherwise old sails were used for the purpose. They'd carry the enshrouded body to the side of the main deck where a plank was resting along the gunwale. After placing the body on the plank, a short service was read and then the board was tilted up until the body slid gracefully into the ocean and immediately swallowed up by the depths. Then, all would go back to their business as though nothing had happened. It struck Bella as cold but necessary, rather like the Captain's articles.

Indeed, she supposed that death was just another way of getting disembarked.

Though life aboard ship was becoming routine, there were difficulties. The rations they were issued were indeed thin as Mrs. Cheney foretold and many ran short by week's end. Bella tried her best to hold off on raiding her store of sea biscuits but she had a nibble at one when her hunger was too much. She felt guilty because there were so many without the resource she had and she was beginning to think she should share her wealth. But then, Mrs. Cheney did not go to all the trouble of giving her the extra provender just so that she could give it away. Bella didn't know what she should do.

She'd gotten to know some of the other women who were berthing with her and found there were a few who seemed decent enough. Not all were as friendly as others, though, and Bella kept the distance they seemed to desire. The German ladies kept entirely to themselves. Bella discovered they belonged to a strange religious sect, the followers of Jakob Ammann, or the Amish Mennonites. They were a peaceable and kindly folk but they didn't mix with the English at all. They hardly spoke a word of English anyway, so it wasn't surprising they were isolated. Bella learned from Mr. McCarty that they were joining settlements of like-minded people in the Pennsylvania colony.

Her fellow travelers from Portsmouth were more forthcoming. There were two girls close to her age, Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory, an older woman, Mrs. Newton with her daughter who was of about twelve years and her son, who was a few years younger than that. Mrs. Newton was a gregarious soul and Bella soon learned that her husband was with the men on the deck below. The Newtons had lost their livelihood due to the recent troubles and decided the best thing to do was exactly what Bella did — emigrate. They had signed the papers with the agent and were going to work on a tobacco plantation outside of Annapolis for seven years.

"But afterwards, we shall get our own land and some wherewithal to farm it. Can you imagine? We shall own our own farm. We would never have that in Hampshire," Mrs. Newton said. Her excitement was palpable.

"Do ye know the folk what hold your papers, madam?" Bella asked.

"No, that we don't but like all of us here, we are hopeful of good, fair masters. Just the same, 'tis too late to worry on it now."

Bella nodded. Mrs. Newton was right about that. They'd all cast their lots and now it was just a matter of learning their fate at the end of the voyage.

"Woman!"

Mrs. Newton turned her head, well recognizing the owner of that gruff voice. "La, Mr. Newton. How do you fare?" Her voice had an anxious edge. The only place men and women could mingle was on the main deck and that was sometimes impossible as there weren't many places for a comfortable coze. Mr. Newton looked fierce as he approached his wife and grabbed her elbow to pull her aside, away from Bella. Concerned, Bella watched as the Newtons had an intense conversation. Mrs. Newton seemed to grow more and more agitated the longer her husband spoke to her. She was shaking her head at him and his voice rose.

"'T'aint nearly enough, madam. 'Tain't nearly enough. The next you get yours, you will give me my due or else I'll know why." With that he dropped her arm and stormed back down the hatchway.

Mrs. Newton looked fretful as she returned to Bella's side.

"What's wrong, madam?" Bella asked.

"Oh, he do say that his rations aren't enough to sate his appetite and he wants part of what they give me and the children."

"But we hardly have enough, either," Bella exclaimed.

"I know. I know. I don't know what I shall do. I won't short the children. In fact, I've been giving them part of mine. What we receive isn't enough to feed a bird."

"How can your husband be such a brute?"

"'Tis the way of the world, Isabella. We women are mastered by our fathers and after them our husbands. We can only pray they be just and kind."

"And is your husband a just and kind man?"

Mrs. Newton didn't answer. She simply sighed and looked away.

Bella put her hand on the worried woman's arm, "I'll help you as I can, Mrs. Newton. I promise you."

Bella thought and thought about how to get more provisions for Mrs. Newton without getting into the supplies Mrs. Cheney had given her. If only there was a way to get more rations. She could give the extra to Mrs. Newton. She couldn't bear to think of the kindly woman or her children falling ill through starvation.

Suddenly, she had an idea. The next time she saw Charlie at his post on the deck, she asked, "Do ye think ye could use an experienced helper, sir?"

Charlie looked up from underneath busy eyebrows and humphed. "Are ye offering?"

"Aye, that I am, sir."

"And what do ye expect in return?"

"More rations, Mr. Charlie."

"Going hungry are ye?"

"Not me, sir, but some little 'uns whom share me berth."

He nodded as he reached down and picked up some canvas. "Let me see how you work, first. Sew a seam there." He pointed to where Bella could see a raw edge needed hemming.

"Let me get my gear and I shall be back in a trice. Thank you, sir."

Charlie just grumped in return as Bella dashed down below to fetch her work box from out of her chest. Quickly returning, she put on her apron and loaded it with the implements of her trade to be readily at hand when she needed them.

Sitting on the deck, she picked up the cloth and studied the hem that Charlie had put in the other edge earlier.

"So ye use four ply threads and place them just a mite a part."

"Aye. More stitches give more strength. Some do skimp but that leads to disaster in my opinion, especially at how our Captain pushes this vessel. A torn sail can stop us dead in the water and that would make him madder than devil's fire, 'tis God's truth."

Bella nodded, took the needle Charlie proffered and prepared her thread. Putting her thimble on her finger, she started quickly sewing the neatest seam she could, and since she was a professional, that was a very neat seam indeed.

Charlie whistled when she finished, both from the neatness of the seam and how quickly she accomplished it, and humphed. "I shall see what the Captain says. I could use your help, 'tis true, but the Captain decides everything aboard."

Bella nodded her understanding and stood. "I hope to hear shortly, Mr. Charlie."

"I'll ask as soon as I am able. Ye have to time these things with Captain; catch him in the right humor. He's as changeable as the weather, that one."

Smiling, Bella nodded and went back down to her chest to put her things away. It was all she could do for now. As she started to return to the main deck, she saw Lauren creep into the berth with her clothing disheveled and cramming something into her mouth.

"Lauren, lass, are you well?" Bella could tell something was wrong.

Lauren gasped and quickly put her hands behind her back, looking guiltily behind her. Bella looked over the girl's shoulder and saw Mr. James coming from behind a partition as he adjusted his trousers. He caught Bella's eye and sneered. With a suggestive leer, he nodded and then disappeared up the stairs to the main deck.

Bella's stomach started to twist. "Lauren, what have ye been about?"

" 'Tis no worry of yorn, Isabella Swan. I be fine as frog hair." With one hand, she pulled her crooked kirtle down and smoothed the fabric over her stomach and hips. She kept the other hand behind her back, evidently not wanting Bella to see what she had in it.

Bella looked at her, realization dawning. Lauren had bartered herself to James in trade for more food. "Oh lass, be careful."

Lauren huffed and rolled her eyes. "I be careful enough," as she stomped away.

Sighing, Bella returned back to the main deck.

The next morning, Charlie caught her as she ascended the hatchway stairs.

"Captain will see you in his cabin, Miss."

Blinking, her heart started to thump madly, Bella followed Charlie back to the officer's quarters. Knocking on the door at the end of the passageway, Charlie called out, "Miss Swan to see ye, sir."

The Captain's deep voice answered, "Enter."

Taking a deep breath, Bella walked into the cabin.

"So, you are willing to serve your days with Mr. Washington as his apprentice sail-maker?"

"Not as an apprentice, sir. I am a seamstress by trade and have studied Mr. Washington as he labored and know I can do a fair job for the simple work that he has before him."

"Simple work, Miss Swan?"

"Aye. I can sew straight seams as tightly as ye may wish. I can measure cloth and leave little to waste. You won't lose by having me assist Mr. Washington and all I ask for is two extra rations be given me in exchange."

"Two extra rations? You value yourself highly, don't you?"

" 'Tis a fine offer I give you, sir and two extra loaves of bread a week is all that I ask. Seems more than a fair exchange."

"You know we are shorthanded."

"So I have been told."

"And Mr. Washington vouches for you."

Bella only smiled and nodded.

"Then, I will make an arrangement. You shall assist Mr. Washington at his duties during the daylight hours in trade for an extra loaf of bread a week."

"One loaf, sir?"

"You're lucky I am giving you that but I want you to have the strength to do your work. You can start today. Dismissed." And he went back to studying the papers he had been pouring over when she arrived.

Pleased that her plan was going so well, she stopped by her chest, put on her apron and got out her work box, then climbed up to the main deck to find Charlie. He had a stack of sails he wanted her to deal with awaiting her on the deck and so, she settled down to work.

Bella found that having something constructive to do during the day made the time at sea go by quickly and she slept soundly at night from the labor. The weather remained fair much to the Captain's delight and _The Patience_ did seem to skip across the water like a child would a field of flowers.

"Miss Isabella, could you go down to the loft and fetch that spindle of thread from the hamper? We be about through with this one." Charlie held up an emptying spool.

"Of course. I shall return shortly." Bella ran down the hatchway stairs and through the passage to the sail loft where Charlie's stores were kept. It was a crowded, cramped place and she had to move some sacks to get where she wanted. She was reaching over a barrel to fetch the spindle of thread when she felt hands on her waist and a hard body pushed up against her bottom.

"There now, Missy, this is how I like it." Mr. James had followed her to the narrow, secluded loft and now she was trapped.

Bella screeched and tried to scramble away. "What be ye about, sir? Take your hands off of me!"

"Hush now, beauty. Being friends with me can bring you benefits. Besides the pleasure I can give you, I can give ye extra rations — food, water, spirits…" His grip tightened and pinned as she was against the lockers, she couldn't get away.

"Stop, Mr. James. Please. I shall scream down the timbers of this vessel, else!" Bella twisted around and struggled against him but it just seemed to incite him more. They were now face to face.

"No, Missy. No. I've watched you since you came aboard. Yer a plum just ripe for the picking, you are." He leaned towards her intending to kiss her, his foul breath almost causing Bella to cast up her accounts. She twisted her head to the side, scratching the side of his neck in desperation to get away.

He hissed and raised his hand to strike her just as she took a breath to shout for help when an angry voice came from behind her assailant, "You, James! About yer old games, are ye? We'll that won't happen on my watch!"

Practically growling, Emmett McCarty grabbed James by the scruff of his neck and pulled him away from Bella. He then threw him against the partition so hard that Bella heard a crack.

Mr. James cried out and grasped his shoulder, "Ye've done me damage! Me arm's come unhinged."

Emmett glared at James and said, "Ye'd best be glad it was only yer arm. If you lay hand on Miss Swan again, I'll see that you'll swim the rest of the way to Maryland." He took a threatening step closer to the injured man, "Are you quite clear on that?"

Mr. James cowered away from the powerfully built man, "Cl-clear – I am clear. I shall not touch the hussy again."

"She's a lady to you, vermin." Emmett put his hand on James' shoulder and the man cried out.

"Get ye to the surgeon to see to your arm, ye blighter, but don't forget my warning."

Emmett stood and watched Mr. James scramble up and limp towards sick bay, then turned to Bella and asked, "Did he hurt ye, lass?"

"Truly, not to speak of. He put his hands on me and tried to put his mouth on mine but that's all. I am so grateful you happened by. Thank you Mr. McCarty, thank you so much."

"'Twas nothing. James is a bad sort. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

Bella smiled, "Something bad did _not_ happen because of your stalwart rescue. Ye knew of Mr. James' bad ways?"

"I suspicioned in the past he was up to the devil with the women passengers. I never saw it firsthand but I had a feeling it was going on."

"Shall you report it to the Captain?"

"I would but that would entail bringing your name into it and I'd as like as not do that. The Captain is capricious and for some reason he puts up with James' tom-foolery more than he does others. The fact the blighter is a cousin of his wife may have something to do with it. I fear that he would just forbid you from helping old Charlie and I can see that arrangement benefits the old man as well as it does you. That being said, Miss Swan, if reporting it is something you wish me to do, I shall do it."

"No. I need the work, Mr. McCarty. I wasn't hurt and I am sure Mr. James has learned his lesson."

Emmett sighed and nodded his head, "Then get ye up on deck and don't come down here alone again. I'll tell Charlie to make sure you are always companioned in the future."

"My best thanks, Mr. McCarty." Bella curtsied and grabbing the spindle she hurried back to Charlie's side glad to have escaped Mr. James' clutches and thankful for friends like Mr. McCarty.

_The Patience_ continued to make good time on the voyage. There were a few storms and though the ship tossed in the waves, Bella had her sea legs and it didn't affect her. On those days, she and Charlie had leave to work on the floor of the officer's mess. Occasionally, Bella was called upon to sew a shroud for some poor soul who had gone to meet their Maker but it wasn't as often Bella had first feared. Though stern, Captain Laurent wasn't cruel and he valued getting all his cargo to its destination as in as good a fiddle as he was able.

Mrs. Newton was grateful for Bella's extra rations and now that they were nearing port, Bella felt easier about sharing her ship biscuits with the other women in her berth as well. She found she now had to strain the water in her jug before drinking as it had become putrid over time. The lemon juice helped some as did the weekly tot of rum but it still took all her will power to drink even a sip. However, thirst proved an easy victor over her qualms. She found if she held her nose, it went down easier.

Bella had faithfully taken the potion that warded off her monthly and she was glad when it didn't come. Other ladies weren't so lucky and had to scramble to figure a way to deal with it. It was cleaning the rags so they could maintain their absorbency that was the problem. The water that was stowed in casks was too vital to use for cleansing.

They learned that during a rainfall, the crew would put wooden tuns out all over the deck to catch the drinkable rainwater but due to its value, none of it could be used for bathing or washing. Charlie showed her a trick, though. During and after a rain fall, the top layer of water in the sea is less salty than usual. If they used a rope to lower a bucket to skim the surface of the sea at those times, they could get water that was less harsh to use as bath and laundry water. It still wasn't drinkable.

No matter, before the end of the voyage, Bella's underclothes were stiff from salt and she couldn't imagine how she smelled. She felt thoroughly grimy and prickly. She would be glad of the bath house when she got to Annapolis. She had fresh clothes put by to change into after she scoured herself clean and picked all the nits from her hair. She blessed Mrs. Cheney for making her cut her hair. She couldn't imagine what she'd do if her hair was down to her waist as it once was. It made her convulse just to think about it. There was one thing she wanted and that wa to make a good impression on her new Mistresses when they first met.

Mr. James steered clear of her for the remainder of the voyage. The surgeon was able to reseat his shoulder and after a few days of light duty, he could return to his normal routine. But whenever he would happen to catch Bella's eye, he glared at her. Bella believed it was simply his peevish personality coming to fore and decided to ignore him. Besides, once off the vessel, she would never see him again.

One day, almost six weeks into their voyage, they were excited and delighted to hear the sailor at the top of the tallest mast shout, "Land, ho!" and point off to the west.

Many rushed to the sides of the ship peering into the horizon but of course they couldn't see anything, yet. They stood and watched the unchanging seascape, until finally thinking the lookout must have been mistaken most wandered away. Bella didn't give up, so excited was she to get her first glimpse of her new home. She had half a mind to shimmy up the mast lines to see for herself when a darker smudge appeared upon the horizon just where the sky met the sea. She knew it was the New World.

She had finally arrived.

Ahead lay her new life.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Annapolis Towne**

* * *

"I shall be that glad to reach dry land," Jessica exclaimed. "When do they say we shall dock?"

Bella was sorting through her belongings, making sure she had her fresh garments at the ready when she reached port. "I don't know for sure, Jess. We passed the port of Norfolk and are now sailing up this great long bay, _The Chesapeake_, I think 'tis called. Mr. McCarty says it be more than two hundred miles long."

"Tchaa. I never heard of such a great thing. How long will it take us to get to Annapolis?"

"Annapolis marks the halfway point up the bay. Mr. McCarty assures me that we should dock no later than Sunday evening. He says if we have a fair wind it should only take a day or two to travel from Norfolk."

"I suppose since we've been shut up on this vessel for nigh on three fortnights, one more night should not be too much a bother. But then, we meet our new masters. Heaven forefend that they be good folk. I am beginning to fret about it."

"Mayhap we'll be near each other, Jessie, and can visit now and again." Bella hoped this was the case. It would be nice to have a friend in Annapolis. The girls learned early on that they were both destined for the town, Bella with the Cullens and Jessica with the Brandon family. Jessica had worked in a grand house back in England and the Brandons were looking for a girl to be a handmaid to their daughter. Lauren and the Newtons were indentured to a plantation in the nearby countryside.

"Have you finished, Isabella? Let us go above and look at the land as we pass." On the whole, Jessica was as eager for her new life just as Bella was. Giggling, they clasped hands and scurried up to the main deck to feast their eyes on the rich green land rolling by. The bay was very wide and they could only see one side at the moment but that was rich with verdant pine and hard wood forests that came to the water's edge.

"Surveying your new domain, ladies?" Emmett McCarty came up behind them, his hands clasped behind his back seeming to enjoy the delight the girls were taking in his homeland.

"'Tis very vast and green but other than a few vessels, we haven't seen a soul yet. You say there be towns here?" Jessica asked.

Emmett's delighted laughter was warm. "There be towns but further up the rivers that feed the bay. The river we are passing now is called the Rappahannock. There are a couple of towns worth speaking of on it— Port Royal and Port Conway. In a while, we shall pass the Potomac upon which lies Alexandria."

His face softened, betraying his fond thoughts. "Alexandria is a fine town with pleasant people. I aim to visit it soon."

He was quiet for a moment and then went on, "But my favorite city will be where we'll be docking and that is my hometown of Annapolis. Though _The Patience_ will be traveling on to Philadelphia, Annapolis is where you ladies will be alighting along with me. The Captain has given me leave to visit my family until he takes to sea again."

"That's good news, Mr. McCarty. I won't feel so alone now that I know I have some friendly faces nearby," Bella said. Truth to tell, she was relieved to know that the trusty Emmett was going to be near her for a while.

Jessica spied Lauren leaning over the rail further down, so she bobbed a curtsy to Emmett and Bella and said, "I shall see how Lauren's been feeling. She's been under the weather these past few days."

Bella nodded as Jessica left them. She looked back at Emmett who was staring off into the distance and she felt that now was the time to ask him the question that had been niggling at her these past weeks. They had developed a friendship over the journey and she believed she could ask his frank opinion by now.

"Mr. McCarty, mind I ask ye something?"

Cocking an eyebrow, he looked down at her and said, "Surely you can ask me anything, Miss Swan."

"Ye told me before that ye knew of my new mistress. Can you tell me anymore about her? The closer we get to Annapolis the bigger my unease that she may not be kind."

Emmett sighed and looked down at the railing in front of them before answering, "I've known the Cullens since I was in skirts. My mother and Mrs. Cullen were friends and so they've been a fixture in my life."

He leaned over to rest his forearms on the gunwale, stared off into space and continued, "I've never known Mrs. Cullen to be other than a lady and to act as ladies do. Her daughters were several years younger than me, so I hadn't many dealings with them. They have a neat home, styled as a row house. 'Tis three stories counting the kitchens and scullery on the ground floor, then on the next floor are the formal rooms, parlors, dining rooms and the like. On the top floor are sleeping chambers and above that are attics. The house is gracious and I think Mr. Cullen had it outfitted in a manner befitting his stature during his life. It had every convenience when I visited last year."

"Oh, so you have had recent dealings with the ladies?"

The normally cheerful man looked saddened for a bit, "Aye. Last summer, Mistress Cullen's niece and nephew from Alexandria came to Annapolis for a visit. There were soirees and card parties and al fresco dining and I was among the merry makers. 'Twas a jolly time and I became friends, more than friends to be truthful, with Mistress Cullen's niece, Miss Rosalie. I believe Miss Cullen felt a connection with me that went beyond simple pleasantries but when I went to her aunt to beg permission to court her, I was turned down cold. It seemed Mistress Cullen had ambitions for her niece that didn't include tying her future to a sailor's lot. I was put on my way with a flea in my ear and Miss Rosalie was sent packing back to Alexandria. I haven't seen nor heard from her since." He sighed heavily.

"Oh, Mr. McCarty, 'tis a sad tale you tell. Is your lady in Alexandria now?"

"As far as I know she is." He brightened and then added, "Mayhap I shall visit her there soon. But getting back to your original query, you can see my feelings toward your new mistress may be a mite prejudiced. Truly, she ran a tight ship in her home but I paid no mind as to how she treated her servants. She did pride herself on being a good Christian woman but that means little in my experience. I've known some folk who called themselves Christian to be meaner than a cranky hornet when they choose."

"Aye, 'tis true." Bella sighed. "I shall just have to present myself on my best footing tomorrow and pray she won't be unhappy with me."

Emmett stood and brushed his hands on the side of his thighs, "She would be foolish indeed if she didn't see your worth from the very start." He smiled warmly at her.

"Well my dear Miss Swan, this is all the lolling about that I may do this day. I'd best get to work before the Captain decides he must disembark me for shirking my duties. G'day."

Smiling, Emmett went back to his tasks and left Bella standing at the rail. She continued to watch the scenery rolling by and thought about everything Mr. McCarty had told her concerning her future mistress, which in truth wasn't very much except that she kept a tidy home and she had no qualms about breaking a good man's heart. Bella would just have to hope that Mistress Cullen wouldn't go about trying to break hers as well.

She reached under her cap to scratch her itchy scalp. Under any circumstance, there was one thing she was desperate to do no matter what. She prayed they had plenty of hot water at the bath house tomorrow.

The next day dawned bright and sunny. Bella found she had no need for the heavy cloak that had kept her warm throughout the voyage. She cleaned her face and hands as well as she was able but still felt as though she had been scraped out of a slop pot. She took a clothes brush to the dress she had worn since the day she boarded to try to get the worst of the stains off but did not make much headway on it. _Oh well_, she thought_. I will only be wearing this from the ship to the bath house. I may burn it when this is over._

As she made her way down the passageway to go up to the deck, a shadowy figure reached out from a recess and grabbed her wrist.

"Oh! Mr. James, you startled me." Bella pulled away from the fierce man.

"I shall do more than startle ye, Miss. I haven't forgotten the injury I suffered because of thee. This be fair warning. One day, I shall have my due of ye, that I will." He dropped her wrist and stormed off, leaving a wary Bella in his wake. The man was crazed. She was arriving at her destination and he, as the ship's crew, was traveling on. They'd part ways and she would never see him again. She had worries enough so she put him out of her mind and climbed the hatchway stairs to take her post next to Charlie as he worked.

A few hours later, Bella was excitedly watching _The Patience_ tack up the broad Severn River. All the crew was aloft and the Captain and his officers were shouting well rehearsed orders furling and unfurling sails as they sailed into Annapolis' harbor. She peered intently at the town as it grew closer and was quite impressed with what she saw.

She could hear church bells ringing calling worshipers to services. Neat houses and buildings were arranged along broad streets that radiated from two hills. Why, it looked as comfortable and homey as any town in England. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so strange in her new land. The more she saw of Annapolis the more excited she was and she couldn't help but to smile happily.

Suddenly a bell rang on the deck of the ship and when Bella turned around she saw the Parson calling out as he tolled his hand bell, "'Tis time for Sunday prayer. All attend. Sunday services are at hand!"

Work on deck slowed to a stop and Bella was surprised. Since they were so close to docking, she had believed they would forgo services this day but mayhap not.

However, the Captain had other ideas. "BELAY THAT! BACK TO WORK YE NAVVIES!" Captain Laurent shouted.

The Parson's back got poker straight and he glared at the Captain. " 'Tis Sunday, Captain. The Articles state…"

"Aye, when we be asea the Articles are in full force. We are now coming into port and have no time for services. I'll have the cargo off this ship in a trice to catch the outgoing tide for Philadelphia or I'll bedamned."

"Aye, you shall be damned by the Almighty for not giving Him due honor and glory on the Sabbath. I would not be doing my duty as a clergyman to let you lead all these persons to perdition by not keeping the day holy."

"Your duty to me as your Captain on this vessel trumps any claim you have elsewhere." The Captain looked around at his men who seemed to pause in their chores. "What be ye about ye dullards? ON WITH THY DUTIES."

The men hopped to and went back to their stations but the preacher wasn't done.

"The Good Book, Captain, does tell us to honor the Sabbath Day and keep it holy and that the Lord thy God is a jealous God and demands our primary allegiance and no MAN shall come before Him." The minister then narrowed his eyes at the Captain and lifted his voice, "Any man who places another man's desires before God's will be consigned to hell come judgment day."

They were close to the dock by now. The Captain turned to the Parson and said in a menacing voice, "Are you disputing my authority on this ship?"

"I am disputing your demanded precedence to God." The minister folded his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at the Captain as though he had finished the argument.

The Captain growled and then shouted, "SMYTHE! JONES! ALONG SIDE HERE!" Two burly seaman stopped their duties and sauntered over to where the Captain and the Parson were having their standoff.

"For challenging the authority of the Captain on this ship _I_ consign _him_ to the watery depths, DISEMBARK THIS MAN!"

Without a pause, the two seamen grasped the arms of the surprised clergyman, frog-marched him to the side of the vessel, and with a heave ho tossed him into the harbor.

Bella's mouth was agape as she watched the man sail through the air and into the water with a splash. His wig soon floated to the surface but at first there was no other sign of him. Suddenly, he spluttered up from the depths, flailing away as he got his breath and then spluttered, "THE LORD WILL CAST HIS JUDGMENT ON THEE, YE BAALAMITE!"

The Captain, who was watching from the deck, sneered and then turned his attention to his crew as they skillfully maneuvered the ship to the dock. Stunned, Bella watched the minister as he gracelessly dog paddled towards shore. Fortunately, they were close in and the man could swim.

She heard the Captain mutter to Charlie who was standing nearby to pack up the Parson's gear and put it ashore with the cargo. The Clergyman could find his own way to Philadelphia but come hell or high water, _The Patience_ would leave for that fair city this day. The Captain was impatient to get back to his family.

A half hour later they had docked, the gangway had been rolled up to the side of the ship and the passengers were allowed to disembark but without the assistance of Messers Jones and Smythe. Bella was struggling with her chest as she gingerly stepped onto the dock and wove her way down to the harbor wall. The land felt curiously flat and still and she was surprised to discover it was difficult to walk in a straight line. She laughed when she realized she had acquired a rolling gait just like the crustiest sailor.

There was a man standing at the end of the dock with a stack of papers clutched in his hands. He eyed each passenger closely and spoke to them as they neared.

"I be the agent out of Philadelphia for those of ye who have struck papers as an indentured servant. Stand by me here so I can see to your dispositions."

Soon, there was a crowd of men and women gathered around the gentleman. He quickly counted the numbers then lifted his voice, "Listen ye for thy name and attend."

Consulting his papers, he grouped the folk according to the masters they were beholding to. Soon, each group was herded off in separate directions. Bella said goodbye to Jessica when Jess' name was called and the girls clung tearfully together. Now that the time had come, they were loath to part, each feeling more secure together.

Soon, all had been called except Bella. The Philadelphia agent looked at her and asked, "I've no paper here for you, girl. Do you know whom ye've been bonded to?"

"I do, sir. One Mistress Cullen of Annapolis."

"Ah. Then you must be the seamstress. I do not understand why I've no papers for you." He looked down in puzzlement at his sheaf. "Perhaps ye should just wend your way to her household on your own."

"I can do that, sir, if someone would but show me the way. But first, I would like to procure the use of a bath house."

"Bath house?" The agent looked at Bella as though she was mad.

"Yes, sir. I've been six weeks asea and I crave a hot bath more than anything."

"But 'tis a Sunday. None will be open for business today. No, ye must get ye to your mistress' house. You can do your washing there."

Bella sighed and looked down at her grubby appearance. What a terrible impression she was going to make on Mistress Cullen but she supposed there was nothing for it but to do as the agent suggested.

"Mind ye get there, girl. If ye seek to shirk yer duties, you shall be chastised most severely and time added on to yer indenture."

"I have no thoughts of trying to avoid my obligation to Mrs. Cullen, sir. Now, how do I find her house?"

Fortuitously at that moment, a friendly voice hailed her, "Miss Swan have you settled, yet?" Emmett McCarty walked down the dock with his seabag slung over his shoulder.

"Mr. McCarty, do you know the way to Mistress Cullen's?" Bella asked.

"Of course I do. 'Tis but a street or two over from my father's house."

"Can I trouble ye to show me the way? It seems this gentleman does not know."

The agent spoke up, "I be from Philadelphia, kind sir. I do not know this town, 'tis God's truth."

"'Twould be my sincere pleasure, Miss Swan. Let me help ye with your chest." The big man easily carried Bella's chest under his arm with his sea bag slung over his other shoulder and led her off the dock and across the market square which, because of the day of the week, was empty.

"Annapolis has the look of a fine town, Mr. McCarty."

"Ah, that it is. It's growing by leaps and bounds every day." He looked around as they walked up Main Street marking the changes that had been made since he was last at home. "Ye will find the people industrious and hardworking but they do like their diversions time and again. Let us cross here."

He led Bella across the road and they turned down a side street. He pointed to a handsome home along the way, "That's my father's house. We are but a street away from Mistress Cullen's." Turning down Charles Street, Emmett finally came to a halt in front of a redbrick row house very much as he had described to her on ship the day before.

"This be Mistress Cullen's, Miss Swan. Now, I don't think it will be such a good thought for me to be showing up on her doorstep as we didn't part on the best of circumstances, so if ye be willing, I shall leave ye here."

"Goodbye, Mr. McCarty and thank you. I don't know what I would have done without your assistance. Ye be a true gentleman, sir."

She curtsied as he bowed. "Don't worry, Miss Swan. I have a good feeling that all will be well with you." Smiling encouragingly at her, he tipped his hat and turned back to walk briskly back down the street.

Bella stood and watched until he turned the corner and was out of sight. Sighing, she faced her new mistress' home again and studied it. It was strange that though it was full morning, the shutters were still closed and there was no smoke coming from the chimneys. Shouldn't the cook be preparing the day's meals by now? Now that she was taking a closer look she thought the house didn't look well cared for and hadn't Mr. McCarty claimed that Mistress Cullen ran a tight ship? Something was out of place here.

"_Oh well, Isabella, you shan't get forwarder by standing here gawping,"_ Bella chastised herself and she climbed the three stairs to the door. She lifted the dull looking brass knocker, rapped smartly on the door, stepped back and waited.

And waited.

She knocked again, and again there was no answer.

She climbed down the steps and looked up at the house once more. There was a window open on the third floor and she could see a curtain fluttering from it in the slight breeze. Someone must be home.

Climbing back up the stairs, she knocked again practically pounding on the door with all her might and finally she heard someone moving about inside. There was a faint crash and the sound of someone's startled but muffled response. Feeling that she was at last successful in rousing someone, Bella stepped back from the doorway and primly clasped her hands in front of her.

She was trying to decide if she should try to appear humble or haughty but when the door opened those thoughts were chased from her mind by pure astonishment. It wasn't a servant who answered the door, nor a girl just old enough to come out to society. It wasn't even a middle aged lady who could possibly be the mistress of the place. It was a man, a dandy of a man. He was tall and though his clothes looked as though he had slept in them, they were of the finest quality.

Bella couldn't help but note how his white stockings and black breeches set off his figure. His black waistcoat was undone and his stock hung loosely around his neck over his white shirt. She saw that his hair wasn't powdered as was the style of the times but was a riot of reddish-brown, almost bronze-looking curls. His face was god-like with a well defined jaw and chin and noble nose. But it was his eyes that made all cogent thought leave Bella's brain. They were a deep piercing green and quite the handsomest pair she had ever seen.

At the moment, however, those eyes were unkindly staring down at her and she noticed that they were rimmed with red. It seemed that the gentleman was dealing with the after effects of spending a night in the arms of Bacchus.

"Well girl, what do you want?"

Snapping out of her daze, Bella mustered enough of her wits to ask, "I be here to see Mistress Cullen, sir."

"That will be quite impossible. Mistress Cullen has been dead these past three weeks."

"Dead?" Bella was shocked. "But she was expecting me."

"I assure you, madam, she is not expecting you now."

"But I was to dress her daughters for their coming out."

"I would say then alas, you are too late. Those poor girls have all ready come out so far they are no longer of this world. My cousins followed my aunt through the gates of heaven."

"But Mistress Cullen paid my passage. I signed the papers." Bella was beginning to feel desperate. If she had no work here, where could she go?

A light dawned in those handsome eyes, "My aunt paid your passage?"

"If your aunt was Mistress Abigail Cullen, indeed she did, Sir."

The man sighed gustily and ran a distracted hand through his hair. "I have no use for a dresser. Be gone with you." Then he started to shut the door.

Fear gripped Bella's heart, "But sir, I've just come all the way from Portsmouth. I have no place to go. I signed the papers. I was assured there would be honest work to put my hand to once I got to Annapolis."

"Portsmouth in Virginia?" he asked.

"No, Sir. Portsmouth, England. I have papers."

"Let us be clear. My aunt paid your passage from England so you could help her bring Constance and Honoria out?"

"If those be her daughters, then yes. I am a seamstress by trade. I was to help dress them. Three years, our agreement was."

"Oh gadzooks, you are an indentured servant." The horror was evident in his eyes.

Just then another man appeared behind him. He was almost as handsome, tall with blonde curls in contrast to the first man's autumnal locks and just as elegantly clothed.

"What's all this noise about, Edward?"

"It seems Aunt Abigail undertook to secure the services of an indentured servant to bring my cousins out in style." There was a note of disdain in his voice. "I have no use for her."

"Indentured servant you say? Then you have inherited her just as you have inherited the house. She is chattel, like that showy carriage your aunt ordered and mayhap just as useless. But that is as never mind, you shall have to take her, Edward."

Just then, the front door opened at a neighboring house and an elderly man came out to call, "Is there a problem, sirrah?"

"Good morning, Mr. Banner. No, there is problem at all," Edward hastily replied.

He turned to Bella and said, "I suppose we should sort this out within. 'Tis best not to make this sorry business gossip fodder for the whole town."

"Yes, Sir," Bella responded.

She stooped down, picked up her chest and followed the gentlemen into the house. As she passed Edward who was holding the door for her, his nose wrinkled and he exclaimed, "Faugh! What is that fetid smell?"

**AN: Back in the day, babies all wore the same kind of clothing regardless of sex; i.e. girls and boys wore dresses/skirts. I guess it made it easier to keep their bottoms clean. They also didn't cut their hair. And honestly, they didn't even call them by name a lot of times. A mother referred to her child as "Baby." Maybe this is a reflection of the high rate of infant mortality of the age. Or maybe, considering the names they gave their kids back in the day, it just didn't seem right to call your little peanut ****_Horatio_**** or ****_Hortense_****. **

"**Spending the night in the arms of Bacchus…" Edward and Jasper were hung over. Bacchus was the Roman god of the grape harvest and all that came of it and I am not talking just about jams and jellies. Evidently, Aunt Cullen had an impressive wine cellar.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 6: The Trial**

* * *

Bella was mortified. She knew she smelled rather ripe but to be called fetid by this fine gentleman was horrifying.

"I be that sorry, sir. I was six weeks asea and the bath houses were closed when we got to port on account of it being a Sunday. I will remedy that as soon as I be able." Her color was high as she confessed.

Edward lifted his head as though trying to escape the stench and looked at her but he said nothing.

"Truly, sir. 'Tis my habit of being tidy about my person. It has been a wearisome burden to have to live in such a manner aboard ship."

The other man spoke up, "Come now, Edward. You know how it is on a long voyage. She has every excuse to come to you that way. I am sure she neatens up quite well."

Bella put as much space as she could between her and the gentlemen but she feared it would be of no purpose. She knew the camphor she used to keep the nits away created a pungent odor and so she was sure she created great stink. This was her worst nightmare. But upon thinking again, she realized her worst nightmare might yet be in the offing. It seemed she might not have a place to live nor a livelihood to live off of after this conversation.

"It matters not, Jasper. She will not be here long enough for us to discover one way or t'other," Edward replied as he pulled out a handkerchief and held it to his nose.

Bella's heart plummeted. "But sir, I have papers," she said, desperation creeping into her voice.

"I have told you, miss. I have no use for a seamstress or a dresser."

Jasper said, "You can always sell her papers at auction, Edward. That would make you some ready cash."

His brow raised as though piqued and responded, "That is true, isn't it?"

Turning to Bella he demanded, "For how long is your indenture?"

"Th-th-three years, sir."

"Three years? Isn't the usual tenure seven?"

"'Tis true sir but since I have a skilled trade, my worth is higher."

"I doubt there are many as foolish as my aunt who would pay a ship's passage for just three years of needlework."

As though a dire thought just occurred to him he asked, "My aunt already gave the money for your passage, did she not?"

"Sure and she did, else they would have never allowed me to leave the dock this day."

Edward nodded and said, "Then that is one foolish bill I won't be obligated to pay, thank the Almighty.

But Bella needed to convince this man to keep her; else she would be destitute in a strange land amongst strange people. This would be a far worse fate than if she had stayed in Portsmouth.

"I can do more than that, sir." Bella was grasping at straws.

"Can you? You tat lace as well?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well, 'tis true, I be skilled in all the needle arts. I've made a few sails for a ship, too, if ye wish to know the whole of it, but I was speaking to something that 'tis plain to see you are in desperate need."

"In desperate need? Are you an heiress? For 'tis money I need more than anything and it seems I can acquire that by putting you and your papers on the block."

"Sir," Bella said with a flash in her eye and drawing herself up to her full height. "You are in grave need of a housekeeper. This house fair screams of neglect. Why, I would wager there's not one fire lit in the place. There's an inch of dust on the furniture, and is that a puddle of candle wax on the carpet there?" Bella pointed to the floor beneath a candle stand where a candle had been left to drip on the rug. She was herself disgusted. She could tell this was a fine home but no one was caring for it. Her tidy nature was rebelling at the sight.

Jasper burst out laughing, "She has you there, Edward. You are helpless in this place alone."

Edward humphed. "And what are your qualifications to be a housekeeper, miss?"

"Whilst I have never had a paid position with that title, I did keep house for my mistress in Portsmouth and before that I learned the womanly arts at my mother's knee."

"Oh, and were these grand houses that you so labored within?" Edward sneered.

"No sir, they weren't but then by my measure this isn't one either." Bella found herself getting angry at Edward's demeanor.

Jasper guffawed, "She's a feisty one, she is. Edward you must keep her. Just think of all the amusement we shall have."

Edward humphed again and didn't say anything, he just stared at Bella who stared right back at him.

Jasper, recognizing they were at an impasse, suggested, "Edward, why don't you give her a trial. The auction isn't to be held for o'er a se'ennight and we must away to Alexandria tomorrow. Let the girl work her charms here and see if she's worth keeping. If not, you can put her papers up for auction at the next servant market. No harm done."

"What if she absconds with the silver during my absence?"

"Abscond where? She's a woman alone. She has no one to abscond to or with, do ye girl?"

"'Tis true I know hardly anyone in Mary-land but even if I knew a hundred, I would never stoop so low as to take advantage of something that was entrusted to me."

Edward strode over to the fireplace and stared at its cold ashes, again distractedly running a hand through his hair. Bella wondered what he looked like when his hair was ordered. She was beginning to wonder if it ever laid neatly at all.

Sighing, his tone resigned, Edward turned to Bella and said, "Surprisingly, Mr. Whitlock speaks sense. What say you, girl? Will you prove yourself as my housekeeper over the next se'ennight?"

Truly, what other choice did she have?

"I will. Ye won't have regrets, sir."

"Then, 'tis settled. Let me show you around the house and then I shall leave you to work as you please." He made sure to remain upwind of her. Her putrid aroma was playing havoc with his stomach which was still trying to recover from his night of drink.

"Thank you, sir. And thank ye,sir." She curtsied towards Jasper. "I am that grateful."

"'Tis my pleasure, miss. Jasper Whitlock at your service." Jasper sketched a bow as though she were a great lady and she smiled. He was going to be a prankster, that one.

She curtsied again and said, "I be Miss Isabella Swan."

They smiled at each other until Jasper looked at the scowling Edward, "Oh, and that cranky besom there is Edward Cullen, late of Alexandria, now of Annapolis."

Tired of Jasper's foolishness, Edward interrupted, "Come Miss Swan, I am sure you wish to begin."

They spent the next hour going through the house and Bella found she had her work cut out for her. Nothing of a housewifely nature had been attempted in a month at least. There was spoiled food in the larder. The night soil man needed to come and deal with the privy. There was dust and rubbish on about every surface. Linens needed to be changed and the wash needed to be attended to. It was overwhelming.

Mistress Cullen's chamber hadn't been touched since the day she died and the stench of the sick room lingered. Mr. Cullen and Mr. Whitlock had been sleeping in two smaller guest rooms since their arrival a few weeks ago.

"Wouldn't ye wish to use the greater chamber for your own, Master Cullen?"

"I would but I've not had the chance..."

Bella nodded. "Sir, if I may ask, what carried your aunt and cousins away?" What they died of would determine what she would do to cleanse their chambers.

"The three of them were stricken by some sort of flux of the bowels. It was sudden and they were all of them dead within a day of each other."

"My sincerest condolences, Sir." It must have been difficult for the gentleman to lose so many family members so close together.

"I suppose I may tell you, miss, that my Aunt's affairs were less than solvent. To the great surprise of many, she hardly had one coin to rub against another. None knew how perilous her finances were until after she died. I believe her plan was to marry my cousins to wealthy men and thus recoup." He shook his head in pity.

"After her daughters, I was her heir. Though this property is not mortgaged, I am afraid there is little to support it. Tomorrow, I return to Alexandria to consult with my father to see what I may do. Truly, Miss Swan, I am not sure I can do anything but sell the property. 'Tis only fair that you know your fate may not be secure even if you prove to be a competent housekeeper."

Bella nodded. No wonder the poor man seemed so out of sorts. She had other questions, though.

"Surely she did not run this household alone. Weren't there servants?"

"Aye. She had two, a husband and wife who had been with her since she married my uncle but, alas, they were also carried off by the same sickness. 'Tis a sorry state the house is in."

Smiling reassuringly, Bella said, "'Tis nothing but what some hard work won't cure. I will put it right for thee."

For the first time, Bella saw Edward's smile and it fair took her breath away. She felt a curious feeling bloom in her chest and wondered if she were getting light headed from all the turmoil of the day.

He bowed to her then turned to Jasper and said, "Let us go to the tavern for some victuals. I am sure Miss Swan has wished us gone this good while."

Bella curtsied as the men left the room. She looked around and muttered, "I won't be seeing a bath anytime soon, that's for certain."

She went down to the ground floor kitchen. It was once a bright cheery room but now it was littered with dirty dishes, rubbish and spoiled food. Being as it was on the ground floor, its plain brick walls were painted white. There was a door to the larder leading off to one side, the cook's quarters were on the street side and on the back wall were bright curtainless windows and a door leading out to the back garden.

And glory of all glories, there was a modern water pump! Bella had never seen one before but she had heard about them. After a few tries, she was easily able to get water to issue from its mouth into the large scullery sink that housed it. What a convenience it was not to have to haul water from a well! Bella knew that once clean, the kitchen would be a very pleasant room.

The first thing Bella needed to do, however, was to restart the fire in the large hearth. This was the one fire that should have never been left to go out because from it all other fires were fed. Generally, the hot coals were banked with thick layers of soot when not in use for cooking and thus kept alit indefinitely.

Bella found a hearth broom and a scuttle and swept it clean. In the over grown back garden she was relieved to find a woodpile with good seasoned wood in it. She gathered several suitable pieces and went back inside to lay the fire.

Now, she needed a starter coal. Where could she get that? She went back outside and looked at the house next door, the same one that the gentleman had come out of earlier to see if Mr. Cullen needed assistance. Their chimney was smoking so she knew at least they had what she needed. Now, if they would give it to her. She went back inside to get a hod — a metal bucket used to carry coals —and was soon knocking on the neighbor's kitchen door.

A jovial looking woman of middle years answered her.

Bella curtsied and said, "Good morning, ma'am. I be Isabella Swan and I now work at the house next door. The fire has gone out on the kitchen hearth and I came to beg a coal, if you would be so kind, ma'am?"

"Oh deary! 'Twill be a pleasure. Here come in, come in. My name is Annabelle Crowley, Master Banner's cook. Let me take that." She reached for the hod and then turned to a boy standing nearby. "You, Tyler get yon lady a good helping of coals for her fire. Make sure to pack them well so the embers stay hot but don't smother them, mind ye."

"Yes, mother," the boy said and scurried over to the hearth to fish out the needed embers with some tongs.

"Now, deary, have a seat and let me fix ye some tea and toast. I can imagine ye hast yet to break your fast."

As a matter of fact, Bella hadn't had the chance. She had been too nervous this morning whilst on the ship and the opportunity hadn't presented itself since she had arrived.

"That would be very kind, ma'am, but please don't go to any trouble. I can't stay long as I've a passel of chores to do before my master returns."

The kind woman sniffed as she busied herself with Bella's food. "I can imagine. They've let that house go to rack and ruin since Mistress Cullen took ill."

"Hopefully, I shall be able to put it to rights without too much of a trouble," Bella responded.

Mrs. Crowley set a perfectly toasted slice of bread in front of Bella spread thick with butter and strawberry jam. She poured Bella's tea with great dollops of fresh milk and scraped some sugar cane into it as well.

Bella took a bite and sighed in delight. "Thank ye, ma'am. This is ambrosia after six weeks asea!"

"Oh, and well do I know it, my dear. So, have ye just come to Maryland?"

Looking down at her soiled clothing, she said, "As ye may indeed see, I arrived but this morning on _The Patience_."

"Oh, ye must be the fancy London dresser Mistress Cullen hired to come specially to set the girls up in society."

Bella blinked, "No ma'am. I be a seamstress 'tis true, but I hail from Portsmouth and Mrs. Cullen hired me in a sense but as her indentured servant."

"Indentured!" Mrs. Crowley seemed surprised and shook her head. "Mistress Cullen had been giving herself such airs over having a London dresser for the girls. I shouldn't be surprised. That one was wont to call glass a diamond and brass, gold. Not to say that you are as glass and brass but it does describe Mistress Cullen to an inch, God rest her soul."

"Well, I am neither a seamstress nor a dresser now. Mr. Cullen needs someone to take his household in hand and since I am here, that would be me."

"You'll need some help with that. I can't imagine what a mortal mess 'tis over there. What with practically no help in weeks and now a bachelor's abode. I know! I shall send ye my girl, Angela, she has but twelve years but she be a good worker."

"Oh madam, 'tis very kind of ye but surely your master will object."

"Mr. Banner? Heavens! He hardly knows I have a daughter as he holes up in his study from morn to eve all day. He thinks the fairies come to tidy his chamber and launder his clothes."

Bella smiled, feeling very thankful that her neighbor was so kind. She finished her tea and toast with a hearty thank you, picked up the hod Tyler had prepared for her and went back to her own kitchen. She had just got the fire started when a slender girl knocked at the back door.

"Come in. Angela, are ye? I be Isabella Swan and I thank ye for coming to help. We shall get through these tasks quicker if we work together. Let us organize the kitchen first so we can keep the blaze going until the coals are set."

"My pleasure, ma'am. What do ye first wish me to do?"

Bella set them to work by first having Angela bring in several arm loads of wood to have at the ready when the fire needed it. She was thankful the flues seemed clear. Many times when chimneys were left to go cold birds, squirrels and the like took to nesting in them much to their dismay — and those of the human inhabitants — when the fire was once again lit.

Bella scraped the food scraps from plates and cooking utensils into waste buckets and set them out by the door. She cleared the larder of spoiled food but was glad to see there were some smoked hams hanging from the rafters along with tubs of flour, corn meal, and wrapped tightly in an oiled cloth, a large lump of sugar. Bella had some food to work with, then. She wasn't much of a cook but she could prepare plain fare.

"Angela, is there a pig man in town that I could have dispose of this?" she asked as she pointed to the slops she had collected.

"Ah, yes. Jacob Black has a farm outside of town. He takes me mum's scraps away and every month leaves her a side of bacon or such in exchange. He used to do the same for Mrs. Cullen, too. He will come tomorrow. I am sure if you leave buckets by the gate he'll get them."

Making a mental note to keep an eye out for Mr. Black the next morning, Bella went back to work. She was beginning to see some progress to their labors and Mrs. Crowley was right, Angela was a good worker.

The next thing they did was heat water so they could start scrubbing the dirty dishes that were encrusted with old food. There was some good lye soap in the pantry and Bella put most of the dishes to soak in soapy boiling water before attempting to scrub them clean. She set Angela to sweeping the floor and scouring the work tables.

Bella decided she would take residence in the cook's quarters that was adjacent to the kitchen. It was a goodly sized room with a decent bed. There was even a dresser with a mirror over top. She was pleased to find a comfortable chair next to a small table under the high window, as well. The walls were white washed and the floors were painted a dark red. All it needed was a good cleaning and bed linens. Yes, she could see herself living here very comfortably if all went well. And please God, it would.

Once the coals had set in the kitchen fire, Bella and Angela went upstairs to Mr. Whitlock and Mr. Cullen's bed chambers to turn them out. Bella found a linen cupboard and was glad that she would be able to change the bed-clothes. From the looks of them, they hadn't been changed in a while. As they were cleaning, she noticed the rooms had a peculiar odor about them. Bella knew exactly what that was from and went to look under the bed. Sure enough, men seemed to think chamber pots emptied themselves.

After spending a few hours of concentrated effort, the rooms shone and Bella was well pleased. The time passed quickly because as they worked, the two girls chattered. After her initial shyness, Angela was happy to tell Bella about Annapolis and its people and in return, Bella told Angela of her old life and the journey here.

Mrs. Crowley brought their dinner over which they gratefully ate at the newly scrubbed kitchen table. The kind lady also offered to prepare a repast for the gentlemen for when they returned later in the evening. Bella would not have to be concerned about it and could set herself entirely to putting the house in order.

Finally, Bella felt she had done what she could for that day. After she and young Angela had scoured the gentlemen's chambers and the kitchen and the rooms there, Bella had been able to tidy and air out every other room in the house the gentlemen seemed to be using. But now he light was fading and she could no longer see the dirt to clean it and she didn't want to waste valuable candles.

The last thing she did was to light the sconces outside on either side of the front door and polish the brass knocker and door-knob so that the gentlemen would feel welcomed when they returned.

At last she felt she could now contemplate her own cleanliness. Through her exertions, she had only added to her stench and filth, she was sure. She hoped she could get her bathing out of the way before the gentlemen returned. She had placed their repast in the dining room in hopes that if they did return before she was suitably attired they wouldn't come looking for her.

She had found a copper bath in the pantry along with the copper pitchers one used to fill it. She laid out a thick rug on the floor in front of the kitchen fire. She set yet another kettle of water to boil and then draped a sheet over the bath tub, for comfort from the hard metal.

Mrs. Cheney had included some bath salts and a special treatment that was to kill any nits that had succeeded in taking root in her hair. She quickly unpacked her chest, getting out her fresh clothing. A far cry from the dark woolen dress she was wearing at the moment, it was a light cotton frock with a pretty blue floral print. She had fresh undergarments that she hadn't worn since they were laundered back in Portsmouth and her apron and cap were perfect. She would be squeaky clean by the time she was finished with herself.

She looked at the tinctures that Mrs. Cheney had sent with her. She contemplated taking the one that held off her menses but then changed her mind. If the gentlemen were going to be gone in the coming week that would be the ideal time to deal with her monthly. Mrs. Cheney had said it might come heavier than she was used to, so all the more reason to put the draught aside for now.

She stripped off her clothing and bundled her dress into a sack. She had thought about burning the thing but perhaps she should try to clean it first. There was no sense in disposing of something that was still useful. As she was removing her chemise, she found the necklace she had sewn into a pocket within it. She'd practically forgotten it in the intervening weeks.

She hurriedly picked out the stitches and retrieved the velvet bag that contained the curious necklace. Looking around her room, she tried to reckon a safe place to put it. It wasn't worth much but she would hate to lose something her dear mistress had given her. She finally settled on putting it in the toe of a pair of stockings and then shoving them to the back of a drawer in the bureau. One day, she would figure out what to do with the thing.

Finally, she was able to settle back into the bath and sighed. It was a complete delight. She dunked her head and started scrubbing the treatment into her hair, then she followed by scrubbing every square inch of her body with the verbena scented soap Mrs. Cheney had given her. When she was finally satisfied, she stood and rinsed herself with a pitcher of cool water she had at the ready. With her eyes shut, she stood there a moment as the water dripped off her body and reveled at how she felt completely revitalized. It was a miracle what a little soap and water would do.

Soon, she was dressed in her fresh clothes and sat by the fire to towel dry her short locks. She was surprised to see them spring into curls as she finished. When she combed them in front of the mirror in her bedroom, she was pleased to see they framed her face prettily. Placing her lace cap on her head and putting on her cotton apron, she felt ready to face the gentlemen when they returned.

She had just finished tidying up the kitchen when she heard footsteps on the floor above. Mr. Cullen and Mr. Whitlock were home. She was a little worried about their condition after spending a day on the town but she hoped for the best. After all, they were gentlemen weren't they?

She straightened her cap and then climbed the stairs to greet them.

**AN**

**Se'ennight – sevennights, or a week. Just like fortnight meant fourteen nights…two weeks.**

**A besom is a bunch of sticks tied together used as a broom, usually for fireplaces. Jasper calls Edward a besom because it is evident that Edward has a stick or two up his butt.**

**Flux of the bowels: a severe gastro-intestinal illness but its causes could be many.**

**You may notice that Jasper/Edward and most Americans have dropped using 'ye' in favor of our more modern usage of 'you.' At the time the English language in what was to become the Americas was undergoing a transition and younger colonists didn't use the old forms so much. Older folks, like Mrs. Crowley, and immigrants, like Bella, still did. Too geeky? I dunno.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Revelation**

* * *

It had been a difficult month for Edward Cullen.

First, he had been dismissed from reading law in Williamsburg with George Wythe, the best legal mind in the colonies. It seemed that Mr. Wythe was not quite so eager to be mentoring the "firebrand radical" that he decided Edward was. Edward had argued that he believed the colonies should be self-governed for it seemed they could do a better job of it than the crown did half a world away. That seemed to be a little too revolutionary for the esteemed scholar and Edward was asked to leave.

Then, when he arrived home in disgrace, he found that his aunt and cousins in Annapolis had been stricken with the flux and summarily died. He hadn't been extremely close to Aunt Abigail, as she had been on bad terms with his father for as long as he could remember, but it was sad all the same, especially as her two daughters died with her. The girls were young and giddy from what he could remember of them, though there had been talk of them "coming out" during the upcoming summer season.

When he and his family traveled from Alexandria to Annapolis for their funerals, he discovered he was his aunt's sole heir. On the surface that could be considered good fortune but what he inherited was a mountain of debts along with the fine house. The longer he spent in Annapolis the greater he found the mountain to be. Aunt Abigail seemed to owe every tradesman between Alexandria and Philadelphia.

Shortly after the funerals, his family traveled back to Alexandria leaving him behind to settle his aunt's affairs. His great friend, Jasper Whitlock, decided to keep him company in order, as he said, to bolster Edward's spirits. Jasper had been reading law with Mr. Wythe, too, but when Edward was dismissed he decided to go with him. Truly, Jasper was good company during a bad time.

He was finally getting a grip on the extent of all of his inherited debts when this little ragamuffin appeared at his doorstep claiming she was yet another unwanted legacy of his aunt's. Unfortunately, she came the morning after he'd imbibed a little too freely of his late uncle's cellar and his disposition wasn't at its best. The urchin declared she was his aunt's newly acquired indentured servant. At least Aunt Abigail had paid for Isabella Swan's passage before she died.

But what was he going to do with Miss Swan? He had no need for a seamstress nor a dresser and he truly had doubts she could bring the housekeeping up to standards. He wasn't sure her claimed experience would be enough to enable her to fulfill those duties. But what Jasper suggested made good sense. She could at least try to bring some order to the chaos on Charles Street. After all, his aunt had already paid for her labor and time—three years worth, Lord help him. If she proved wanting, he could simply put her to auction.

He and Jasper ate a good breakfast at a tavern near the docks and then went to his aunt's lawyer to receive the final tally of her foolishness. Samuel Chase was an energetic fellow and extremely capable as a man of business. If they had met under other conditions, Edward would have been glad of the acquaintance and it seemed the feeling was mutual.

Mr. Chase smiled warmly at the young man who sat across from him in his study. "The good news, as you know Mr. Cullen, is that the house has no mortgage. Your aunt inherited it from her father under the condition that no mortgage ever be taken out on the property else it reverted to the rectors of St. Anne's church."

Edward was stunned, "Is that stipulation even possible?"

"In my legal opinion probably not, but it was never tested in a court of law. Your aunt seemed to think her father's will was iron clad else I am sure she would have realized what monies she could from mortgaging the house. Instead, she simply ran through lines and lines of credit with tradesmen."

The lawyer pointed to the figure at the bottom of the ledger he had set before Edward. "As you can see from the final tally, your aunt's estate owes a total of _£1,298 8s 4p_."

Edward chuckled humorlessly and said, "I do believe I might have the four pence."

"I recognize it is a large sum, sir, but many to whom your aunt's estate is beholden are willing to take payments over time. I believe the fact you are a young and vigorous gentleman gives them hope that the debt will eventually be paid."

"But sir, I don't have the wherewithal to pay it."

"Don't you have an income or a career that would lead to one?"

"No, I am afraid I do not. I was reading law in Williamsburg but that recently ended."

"With whom were you reading?"

"Mr. George Wythe, sir."

Mr. Chase snorted, "He is a brilliant man but he is not one for flights of thought."

"No. I am afraid my flights were a little too energetic for him and he sent me home."

"Did you enjoy the studying, though?"

"I did. I thought it fascinating."

"Well sir, if you find yourself residing in Annapolis, you can always complete your studies with me. I am always looking for an energetic thought to cogitate upon and debate."

Edward paused, surprised by the offer but hesitant to accept the help. "That would be good fortune for me, sir; however, I am not sure I will be staying here. I am taking my aunt's papers with me to Alexandria tomorrow and asking my father's advice. I trust his counsel. I shall come back in a week and I will know my direction then. Thank you, sir, for all of your assistance."

Mr. Chase escorted Edward to where Jasper was awaiting him in Mrs. Chase's morning room. She and her young family were entertaining Jasper there; or rather, it seemed Jasper was entertaining her young family.

He was sitting on the carpet playing an enthusiastic game of parlor skittles with a young boy. Evidently, Jasper had made a bruising strike to the cheers and giggles of the young lad's sisters. Upon seeing Edward and Mr. Chase enter the room, he arose from the floor and turned to the pleasant lady to bid her farewell.

"Mrs. Chase, I thank you for your company and refreshments."

Jasper bowed elegantly over her hand as she tittered. There were disappointed protests from the younger family members as the skittles game was only half over.

"Now, children, Mr. Whitlock needs a reason to return to us. What better excuse than to complete your contest?" That seemed to soothe the youngsters' uproar.

Turning back to her guests she went on, "You are very welcome here at any time, Mr. Whitlock, and you as well, Mr. Cullen. I hope we can meet often in the future."

Making polite noises, the two men departed the Chase household and walked up the street towards St. Anne's. If they hurried, they could attend Sunday services. Jasper turned to Edward and said, "What's to do, my friend?"

Edward looked grim. "I was given the sum total of aunt's debts. It was a huge amount, well over £1,000." Jasper whistled as Edward shook his head. "I don't know if I can hope to clear that in ten years, never-the-less one month."

"Will the merchants allow you to pay piecemeal? Surely, they would agree to that."

"Mr. Chase mentioned that. In fact, he has hopes that I stay in Annapolis. He even offered me the opportunity to continue reading the law with him."

"Truly? That's good news, isn't it?"

"Perhaps, but I think the man pities me and his offer was an act of charity. Still, I shall need an income to run a household. I am not sure from where that will materialize. My only hope is that my father will assist me."

"How likely is that, Edward?"

Edward chuckled, "It mostly depends upon whether my sister has run up her tailoring bills or not."

"Dear Miss Rosalie, she gives your father a merry chase. I would have thought your mother would have married her off by now."

"There have been suitors but Rose is capricious. I have never seen her look at the same man twice but one."

"But one? Who was that?"

"Actually, he lives here in this town. Rosalie and I met him last summer when we visited Aunt Abigail but he wasn't up to my aunt's exacting standards and he was given his _congé_."

"Was he common?"

"No. He was from a good family but he took to sea on a merchanter and is working his way up through the ranks. One day, he shall make something of himself, I am sure."

"Did Miss Rosalie disagree with her aunt?"

"'Twas hard to tell. She ne'er spoke of it but I do think there was more to the situation than she would allow. I know that she has been less than patient with her current swains ever since."

"Perhaps if you remove permanently to Annapolis, your sister can become your _châtelaine_."

Edward clapped Jasper on the back. "That is also a good thought, my friend. You have been surprisingly full of them lately. I shall have to see what m'father says about it all next week."

And so, the two spent the remainder of the day in quiet pursuits aiming to stay clear of the house on Charles Street as long as possible thus giving Bella time exercise some of her "charms" on the place.

Finally, the encroaching night drove them home.

Before they reached the turning for their street, Jasper stopped. "Do you think there will be supper for us when we get there?"

"I would be surprised if there was." Edward hadn't said anything to Bella about having a meal ready for them. He only asked her to clean the house and Lord knew there was plenty of that to be done.

"Do you think I could stop by Molly's Tavern to get some fish soup? I could smell its aroma calling me as we walked up the street."

Edward laughed knowing how Jasper was so enamored of the stuff. "Go ahead. I am not hungry but I believe I have a powerful thirst. I shall step around to the wine cellar and get a couple of bottles of that excellent Madeira Uncle Cullen put down. I think it will make a fine end to our day. When you are finished at Molly's, come and join me at home."

"Aye, that's a splendid idea." Waving, the two men parted and went their separate ways.

Uncle Cullen had been particular about his wine. The only improvement he made in his wife's house after they married was to dig a wine cellar underneath it. He then set about filling it with various fine vintages and had amassed quite a collection. Unfortunately for him but perhaps fortunately for Edward and Jasper, he died before making much of an inroad into it. His widow, Aunt Abigail, had not much of an interest in fine wines and was content to drink and, Edward remembered with a shudder, to serve to guests the Scuppernong wine she made herself.

As Edward walked up the darkening street to his house, he was surprised to see the sconces on either side of the front door lit and the brass knocker and door knob glittering in their light. It seemed the ragamuffin-seamstress-cum-housekeeper had actually made progress this day.

Passing by the front door of his house, he let himself through a gate that led down a narrow alley to his back garden. The wine cellar was secured by an iron-studded, wooden door. He kept the key on his person because the contents of the cellar were valuable.

He was getting the key out of his pocket when he passed the kitchen window and was struck still as stone at the wondrous sight he saw.

In the dim firelight he saw a beauteous creature arise from her bath. The soft glow cast intriguing shadows across her naked body and he gasped as she poured a pitcher of water over her head. He had never seen such perfection in a woman's form before.

His heart started pounding as the water poured over her face and in the shadows he could see as it caught upon the curve of her breast, followed her narrow waist and taut stomach, then glistened upon her hips, smooth thighs, delicate knees and finely shaped calves.

"So, beautiful…." he whispered in awe. "She is the _Birth of Venus_ come to life."

His whisper brought him back to the realization that he was standing in his back garden and, unbeknownst to her, gaping at her while she bathed. It was highly dishonorable of him to violate her privacy, servant though she was.

Quickly, he turned around and quietly left the way he came. He paused a moment in the alley, taking deep breaths to try to find his equilibrium. He was shocked at how much he was affected by this inadvertent vision. _This_ was the ragamuffin urchin whom he had inherited responsibility for this day? He could hardly contemplate it.

When he could finally breathe normally, he dazedly wandered into the street and headed for Molly's Tavern to find Jasper. A few minutes later he was sitting next to his friend as the man enjoyed his soup.

"Didn't you wish to fetch up that wine?" Jasper asked.

"I decided you had the better thought."

"'Tis just as well. I think we had more than was reasonable last eve." He beckoned to the server, "Molly, a bowl of your delectable soup for my good friend."

The smiling lady brought a steaming bowl of the delicacy to Edward but, good though it was, he could hardly eat it.

All he could seem to see or think about was Miss Isabella Swan arising gloriously from her bath.

* * *

"Good even', sirs," Bella said and bobbed a curtsy as she met Edward and Jasper in the foyer when they finally returned home.

"There, Edward, I told you she'd clean up well." Jasper laughed in good humor as he said this, so Bella couldn't take offense. Edward had an arrested look on his face as he gazed at her and nodded solemnly. Bella wondered why the color was so high in his cheeks. Perhaps he was regretful of his incivility this morning?

Jasper smiled and said, "'Tis certainly a good evening, Miss Swan. What miracles have you wrought here today?"

"'Twas nothing a little effort couldn't do, sir. Would you care for some supper?"

"Supper? That sounds delightful." Jasper was never one to turn down a meal.

Smiling, Bella led the way to the dining room and lit some candles illuminating the two place settings at the ready along with sliced ham and beef, good brown bread, pickles and even pie for the sweet.

Edward was surprised out of his seeming stupor, "From whence did this come?"

"Mrs. Crowley from next door was very generous and helpful today. She provided the supper for you tonight knowing that I had my hands full otherwise."

"Miss Swan, 'tis not appropriate to ask the neighbors for help," Edward said.

"I did not ask, sir. Rather, I did not ask for the supper. But when I found all the fires were out in the house this morning, I went to the neighbor's and begged for a coal. Mrs. Crowley was very kind and welcoming."

"That is as may be, but still I don't like being beholden to the neighbors."

"Beholden?" Bella was perplexed. How in heavens name had he expected her to get the fire started without a coal? She had found no flints about the place.

"Are you confused about my desires, Miss?" Edward could see the question on her countenance.

"I be a mite confused, sir. May I ask so that I may understand ye, if Mrs. Crowley came to me begging a coal would you have me refuse her so that she would go without?"

"Of course not, 'twould be uncharitable."

"And 'tis everyone's Christian duty to be charitable?"

"Why, of course."

"That's where my confusion begins, sir, for how can any be charitable if none would accept it?"

Jasper burst out laughing, "By George, she'd make a good lawyer, Edward. Maybe 'tis she who should be reading with Mr. Chase."

Edward sighed but he couldn't refute her logic. "I see your point, miss. It simply goes against my grain to take assistance."

"_Hmmm…_" Bella thought, "_and_ _they do say that pride goeth before a fall,_ _Mr. Cullen."_

But all she said was, "Not to worry, sir. I shall never ask for anything unless circumstances are dire. And a house without a fire in the hearth is fairly dire in my world."

"I concede that," Edward said as he started filling his plate.

"Now, sirs, would ye like some tea with the meal?" Bella asked.

Nodding, the gentlemen went about eating as Bella went to the dumbwaiter in the dining room wall to haul up the kettle of hot water she had put at the ready while she was in the kitchen. She had the china tea set arranged and waiting on the side table.

As she prepared the tea, Jasper asked, "Besides this delicious meal, what else were you able to accomplish today, Miss Swan?"

"Well sir, as I mentioned, I started the fire, and then aired and turned out both of your bedchambers. Below stairs has been scoured and put to the ready. I looked in the larder to see what food was there and made a listing of what I believe is wanting. I gathered all the spoiled food and will make arrangements tomorrow with the swineherd to trade our scraps for meat on occasion.

"I also tidied up most of the remaining rooms in the house but they haven't been much cleaned. I will turn each one out in the coming week. By the by, I gathered your soiled small clothes, laundered them, and they are now drying in front of the kitchen fire ready to be ironed in the morn."

Edward was stunned. He had had no expectation that she would have been able to accomplish half so much since the morning. "I am amazed, Miss Swan, at your being able to achieve all of this in just a day's time."

Bella fidgeted a little and twisted her hands together, "As to that, sir, I didn't do it by myself. Mrs. Crowley sent her daughter over to help me. I didn't ask for her assistance but, to be truthful sir, I more than welcomed it."

Jasper clapped his hands and said, "Miss Swan's a rare jewel, Edward; both industrious and wise. I must say, I am impressed."

Edward humphed again, not willing to admit his own amazement at Isabella Swan. He was surprised not only because of her accomplishments in the house but also at her beauty. No ragamuffin she! Her hair delightfully framed her face in dark curls and her eyes were a deep brown that sparkled with her obvious intelligence—or impertinence, he didn't know enough of her at the moment to decide which. His mind was still reeling from the impact of his earlier glimpse and now, everything else about her just sent him spinning further. He needed to come to rights or it would be he who was completely and utterly asea.

She stood quietly aside as he and Jasper ate their light supper, anticipating when one would need another slice of meat or the other would desire a fresher cup of tea.

The men talked of their coming journey to Alexandria. They'd be sailing early on the next morning's high tide. Bella thought she'd better get their small clothes pressed before she went to bed else she was not sure they'd have any fresh ones to wear, so she quietly excused herself and went down to the kitchen to set up the ironing board and flat irons she had discovered during her chores that day. The flat irons had to heat up, so she put them on spider trivets, set them close to the smoldering coals and then climbed back up the stairs to find that the men had finished their meal and decided to retire. She quickly cleaned up the dining room, shut the shutters on the main floor of the house, blew out the candles and bolted the front door.

Returning to the kitchen, she washed the dishes and prepared as much as she could for the breakfast she'd make on the morrow. There wasn't much to be had but she could manage some porridge. Mrs. Crowley had given her milk and butter that Bella would serve with it and she was hoping her master would be satisfied. He seemed a little more pleased with her this evening and she trusted that was a sign that he would eventually keep her. For some unidentifiable reason she knew she could be content here.

Finally, she was able to turn her hand to the ironing but suddenly felt so tired that she thought she would fall asleep as she stood there. 'Twas no wonder; the day had been filled to the brim with surprises, alarms and strenuous work. This was not well at all. She was sure her master and his friend needed their small clothes in the morning, so there was nothing for it but to press them before she sought the comfort of bed. However, she was fighting to keep her eyes open.

_"Isabella, ye must stay awake for just a while longer," _she said to herself_._

She decided to sing in an effort to stay alert as she finished her work. She loved to sing and found it helped pass the time when she'd laborious chores to do.

She started with one of her favorite ballads, _"Barbara Allen_." It was a long piece with many verses and she figured by the time she'd be done with it, the ironing would be completed. And so she sang as she worked.

Up in his chamber, Edward was lying abed trying his best to sleep. He was failing for every time he shut his eyes, he saw Isabella. It was as though her image was engraved on the back of his eyelids. Opening his eyes, he'd think of the girl as she came to him. He must have been blind not to see the beauty underneath the dirt. The little discourse they did have revealed a seemingly quick wit, something that always appealed to him in a woman. He had no use for the simpering belles of society with their false airs and facile minds.

But what was he thinking? She wasn't of society, she was a servant, _his_ servant, and he had a responsibility to her. He couldn't be thinking of her in this manner. He shouldn't. He rose up and pounded his pillow and said aloud, "I won't."

He rolled over, shut his eyes once again and thought of the tangle his aunt had left him. He was wondering what counsel his father might give him concerning the estate and he hoped…what did he hope? Did he wish to remain here and study law with Mr. Chase? After Miss Swan's posit concerning the nature of charity—that there had to be charity takers in order for there to be charity givers—he was rethinking the offer the lawyer had given him. Or, did he wish to sell up and return home to Alexandria and search out another path to follow? His father had offered him a place in his successful merchandising business but Edward resisted living in his father's shadow.

And then suddenly he remembered just how the water shimmered upon the curve of _her_ breast.

"Damnation!" he sat up and decided to light a candle and read for a while. That should keep his mind off of a certain female.

He settled back to reread Milton, who seemed to understand the conditions of paradise and perdition, when he thought he heard a soft, angelic song. It was so faint, he wasn't exactly sure he heard it and then it stopped. He began to read again only to be interrupted by the tune once more.

He arose from bed and followed the direction of the melody out into the hallway to the third floor dumbwaiter that was used to bring morning tea up to the family—when they had servants to do so, that is.

That gave him pause. Would Isabella Swan bring him his morning tea? To his chamber? His throat tightened and he swallowed. Why was he reacting this way? Surely he'd been around beautiful women before. Maybe the constant worry over his financial woes was addling his mind.

He opened the dumbwaiter's door and the voice was clearer. The song was one with which he was familiar, an old ballad_._ His mouth gaped as he listened to the sweet soprano weave a honeyed web around him.

He started shaking his head, "No. No. I must not." He slammed the dumbwaiter shut, ran for his bed, diving under the covers and clapping his hands to his ears.

What enchantment had bewitched him this eve? A mere slip of a maid had turned him upside down and he must not allow it. His plate was full to overflowing with problems and he was now adding to it by indulging in this impossible fascination.

He was glad to be leaving on the morrow. Perhaps a week away would clear his mind and allow him to again see Isabella Swan as the servant she truly was instead of what she now seemed to be, his beautiful nightingale.

**AN:**

**Back in the day to become a lawyer, one "read" for the law either on one's own or with a practicing attorney. Abraham Lincoln taught himself to be a lawyer on his own, for instance. Thomas Jefferson read law with George Wythe of Williamsburg. I guess he wasn't quite the radical Edward was at the time. There was a course of study, usually reading stuffy texts and case law then discussing it/dissecting it with one's mentor. Then after the course of study, which could last several years, a test was administered by the bar and one either passed or failed. If one passed one could practice law.**

**Samuel Chase was for real a resident of Annapolis and for real a lawyer and for real a revolutionary and for real signed the Declaration of Independence and later on, for real, became a Justice on the US Supreme Court. And like many of the hippies of my generation, he went from fire breathing radical to ultra conservative stick in the mud by the time he was a Justice. I think it must be an age thing.**

**On the other hand, George Wythe wasn't such a stick in the mud as I have portrayed him. He was a brilliant classical scholar and he mentored many men to become lawyers ( being one of them) and like TJ, he was suspected of, after his second wife died, taking his slave as a mistress and having a child with her. Oh, then he was poisoned by his nephew so the nephew could get his hands on his uncle's money but his Uncle realized what had happened and changed his will before he died so that the nephew got not one penny. Wythe also signed the Declaration of Independence. He's got a very nice house in Williamsburg. You can tour it if you ever visit.**

**A **_**châtelaine**_** is what I used to be (actually still am, really)—a housewife. She wasn't a servant; she was the hostess and directed the operations of a household, usually the wife of the owner or his mother or even, his sister. **

_**The Birth of Venus**_** is a very famous middle ages painting by some Italian dude (Sandro Botticelli). I am sure you've seen it before. I'd post a link but I am tired of fanfiction messing them up. "You can Google it," as Edward says. (Not my Edward but the original Edward.) **

**To hear **_**Barbara Allen**_** sung, do a Google search for Joan Baez singing **_**Barbara Allen**_**. That's how Edward's Nightingale sounded that evening. **

* * *

**Chapter 8: Mushrooms**

* * *

Bella slept like the dead that night, in fact she was sure she hadn't budged an inch in her sleep because she had been so tired. When she finally was able to strip down to her shift in her own chamber and tuck herself between the fresh sheets, she rejoiced in being able to rest at last. That was the last thought she remembered.

A neighboring rooster announced the morning and she woke up a little unsure of where she was at first but soon it all came back to her. She jumped out of bed, threw a shawl around her shoulders and went out into the kitchen to stoke the fire and put water on the boil.

After lighting the lantern, she made a quick trip to the necessary in the dark. Holding her nose, she resolved to have the night-soil man to come as soon as could be to clean the privy out. The day before, she had dumped the old ashes she found in the various fireless hearths into it and that helped cover the smell some but truly it needed to be emptied.

Picking up an armful of wood, she returned to the kitchen, added a few sticks to the fire that was beginning to burn brightly on the hearth, and then hurriedly washed and got dressed. She was glad that she had two dresses suitable for her current station and could vary wearing them. The one she wore today was a soft blue and Mrs. Cope had claimed it set off her complexion as bright as a new tuppence.

Bella was fortunate to have fine, clear skin as smooth as a milk-maid's and, unlike many her age, was unmarred by pox marks. Mrs. Cope claimed that Bella's clear complexion was due to her country upbringing but the girl had no idea why that should be. The humours in the country were the same as they were in the city, weren't they?

Tying her apron and putting her lace cap on her head, she was thankful that she not only looked more the thing and, now that she had a good night's rest, she felt more the thing than she did this time the day before. So much had happened in just a short time, 'twas a wonder she wasn't dizzy from it.

She had no idea when the gentlemen would appear downstairs, so she prepared the porridge knowing it would keep for several hours. After opening the shutters on the main floor of the house, she readied the dining room for breakfast.

Now came the step she dreaded. It was time to go above stairs and wake the gentlemen. She wasn't quite sure what her reception would be and what their habits might be. Hoping for the best, she fetched the hot water ewers for washing and made coffee from the beans she found in the pantry, then ferried them all up to the third floor in the dumbwaiter. It was full light outside now, so additional illumination was not needed as she climbed the stairs carrying the clothing she'd neatly pressed the night before. Opening the dumb waiter, she arranged an ewer of hot water, a cup of sweetened coffee upon a tray , and then hesitantly knocked on Mr. Cullen's door.

After a moment, a gruff voice said, "Yes?"

"Mr. Cullen, 'tis an hour after sunrise. I've hot water for shaving and a morning cup of coffee for ye, sir."

She heard some rustling and then the door creaked open a crack and Edward's bleary eyes peered out. "What's that?"

Lifting up the tray with the ewer and steaming cup she said again, "Hot water and coffee, sir."

"Oh." He stood there and stared at her, his eyes firmly affixed to hers but he didn't say a word more.

Bella wondered if there was a problem she didn't see. "Do ye want them, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you. Please come in." He moved aside and opened the door wider.

Bella lightly stepped within and placed the tray on a table, carried the ewer to the wash stand, and put his clean clothes in the bureau. Then she pulled his curtains open and opened the shutters to let the morning light into the room. As she turned to add wood to the fire, she felt as though his eyes had been boring holes into her as she worked. He stood stock still at the side of the doorway, not moving a muscle. When she was completed with her tasks, she curtsied to him and asked, hands folded in front and eyes downcast, "Do ye need anything else, Mr. Cullen?"

"No. That's quite fine, Miss Swan. Thank you." His voice was soft and for some reason it caused the fine hairs to rise on her arms. She slowly raised her eyes and noticed that his feet and strong calves were bare and his nightshirt was loosely tucked into his hastily buttoned breeches. His hair was sleep tossed and his chin was darkened with morning stubble. He looked utterly appealing to her. His green eyes regarded her intensely and looking back into them, she suddenly found it hard to swallow.

A moment passed.

Oh, dear. She was forgetting herself. He was her master and she was undergoing a test. Staring at the poor man like a looby wasn't going to help her cause any, that was for certain. She bobbed another curtsey and with her eyes once again downcast, went back out into the hallway pulling the door shut behind her.

She turned to look back at his door, wondering at the strange interaction they had just had and even more so, her reaction to it. Her heart was thundering as though she'd just run a furlong. She rubbed her arms where the skin was still goose-fleshed and shrugged. He seemed a bit off to her but maybe like so many people, perhaps he wasn't much use in the morning.

Taking a deep breath, she got the second ewer, coffee and the remaining stack of clothes and knocked on Jasper's door.

"Mr. Whitlock, sir. I've hot water for ye this morn," she said.

"Come in! Come in! You've not an idea how welcomed hot water will be after days of shaving with cold," Jasper's cheery voice answered her.

Smiling, she opened the door and put the ewer on his wash-stand, "Good morning, sir. I trust ye slept well?"

"The sleep of the innocent, my girl, although why that should be, I've not a clue." He laughed. The young man was grinning as he lay in bed with his hands propped behind his head.

Bella carried the cup of coffee to him, "I wasn't sure how you had your morning coffee but this has plenty of sweet and milk in it."

Jasper took it gratefully, as Bella put away his small clothes, opened the curtains and shutters, then stirred his fire just as she had done for Edward. When completed, she smiled, curtsied and said, "Breakfast be nothing but porridge and milk, sir, but 'tis hot and should stick to your bones for a day of travel."

"I am sure it will be a feast compared to the stale bread I'd get if left to my own devices, dear girl. Thank you for your care."

"My pleasure, sir." Gently shutting the door behind her, she returned to the kitchen to ready their breakfast.

All in all, the morning went well. The gentlemen came down for their meal and were appreciative, simple fare though it was. Bella was attentive to their needs and she was feeling more and more comfortable in her position. The men returned upstairs to prepare for their journey and a while later, Edward sought Bella out as she was tidying the dining room.

"Miss Swan, Mr. Whitlock and I will be leaving within the hour. We expect to be back in a week's time. If you have need of me sooner, here is the address to where you may write." He handed her a paper with his father's address in Alexandria on it.

"As you wish, sir."

Edward turned to leave when Bella cleared her throat, "Sir, if I may ask? There are some matters that need your direction."

He paused, raised his brow and said, "Yes?"

"Well, sir, there needs to be more provender in the larders. I must go round to the shops, else there will be nothing to eat when ye return home."

"And you need money for that?"

"Aye, sir."

"And that, my girl, is precisely why I am traveling to Alexandria. I am trying to see if I can raise the money to run this place."

"I understand, sir." Bella wondered what she was going to do in the meantime. There were things needed that only money could buy.

Edward pulled out a coin purse from his coat pocket, fished out a few of his scarce treasure and gave them to her. "This is just a little over a pound but it is all that I have to spare, I am sorry to say."

Bella had a thought, "Sir, if I could find goods to trade with merchants and tradesmen, would ye allow me to do it?"

"What goods?"

"There are three good sized hams curing in the larder. We don't need all of them. Plus, I noticed in the cabinet in the upstairs hallway there are a goodly amount of fabrics and notions. They are feminine in pattern, so I was thinking they'd be of little use unless ye have a craving for a fancy waistcoat or two."

Edward chuckled, "Not today, Miss Swan. I don't know what you could realize from those things but have at it, if it helps."

"Thank ye, sir." Bella bobbed a curtsy as Edward took his leave.

A few minutes later, he and Jasper were on their way to the ship that would take them to Virginia. Bella stood on the top porch step and watched them go, noticing how broad Mr. Cullen's shoulders were and how gracefully he moved. She was surprised when he turned at the corner to look back at the house, and more specifically, at her. Their eyes met and once again, the goose-flesh rose on her arms and a curious tightness gripped her stomach. She smiled hesitantly and lifted her hand in adieu. Edward nodded once and was gone.

Sighing, Bella said as she turned and entered the house, "Now, let us see what I can accomplish in this place."

She was beating the gentlemen's bedroom carpets as they hung over the wash line in the back garden when she heard a merry voice call, "Good day, miss!" She had stirred a great cloud of dust up from her labors and at first couldn't see to whom the voice belonged. Peering over the line, Bella saw a tall, dark-haired young man smiling at her from Mr. Banner's back garden.

Smiling back she said, "Hello."

"Mrs. Crowley tells me you would trade your scraps for good hog meat now and again."

"Oh, you must be the pigman." Bella smiled as she put down the wicker carpet beater and walked around the wash line to greet the man who had now entered the yard to meet her.

"I be Miss Isabella Swan and I work for Mr. Cullen, now." She curtsied.

Bowing and tipping his hat, he said, "I am Jacob Black, Miss Swan. My father owns a farm outside of town and it's true, we have pigs but we have sheep and cows as well as some fine green goods. Welcome to Annapolis, miss." His smile was very engaging.

"Thank you, sir. 'Tis fine to meet ye. Would ye be interested in trading scraps for meat?"

"Aye, I would. I used to trade with Mrs. Cullen before she took ill, poor lady."

"'Tis very sad she died, sir, and that's a fact. But I would like to trade with ye. I've four buckets full here but I am not sure these be worth your while. Some of the food has gone off."

Jake looked into the buckets as he said, "Well, pigs aren't as choosy as people tend to be and we cook it up in a great cauldron before we feed it to them. It cures any foulness, it seems."

Something in one of the buckets caught his eye and he asked as he studied it, "What did Mrs. Cullen die from, do you know?"

"Mr. Cullen did tell me she, as well as all of her household, died of a sudden flux."

"Do you know if they had fits as well?"

"I hadn't heard of it, Mr. Black."

"Hmmm." He peered down into the bucket again, fetched out his knife and pulled out a desiccated piece of food. "Do you know what this was?"

Bella looked closely and said, "I can't say, sir, but I think there was a mort of them left on the drying board."

Jacob looked keenly at Bella and asked, "What did you do with them?"

"As I didn't know what they were, I wasn't sure what to do with them, so I gathered them up."

"Where are they now?"

"In the larder. I'll show ye." She led the way through the kitchen into the pantry and fetched a bowl that was half filled with dried fungus. "When I had the chance, I was going to ask someone to tell me their use."

Jacob looked carefully into the bowl and said, "I am afraid their use is to poison, miss. These are dried death caps. They look very much like the king's cap mushroom which are quite the treat to eat but you confuse the two at your peril."

Bella looked at the bowl in fright. "Death caps! My stars! What shall I do with them, Mr. Black?"

"Burning them would be the best and then scouring any surface they rested upon."

Bella started to throw them into the fire when Jacob stopped her. "I shall take them and put them in a bon fire out of doors, miss. Their fumes might be deadly as well."

"That's thoughtful and kind of ye, sir. Let me get an old sack for you to tote them. I shall have to tell Mr. Cullen the distressing news when he returns."

"Don't worry about that, Miss. I shan't feed your scraps to my pigs just in case a death cap was amongst them but I will burn them for you as well."

He turned to go to his cart when Bella said, "Sir, I think I should hold back a few to show Mr. Cullen when he returns. I know he'd wish to see for himself."

Nodding, Jacob dumped all but a few into the slop buckets then went outside to his cart that was waiting for him in the back alley. He got out a large wooden half-rundlet and dumped in Bella's scraps. Meanwhile, Bella put the remaining death caps in a cupboard where brooms and mops were kept thinking to keep them out of the reach of any foods until her master returned.

Returning to the house, Jacob stacked Bella's empty buckets next to the doorway and said, "I shall see you next week, Miss Swan." There was a regretful look in Jacob's eye but his smile was warm.

"I shall look forward to it, Mr. Black, and thank you so very much for helping me this day."

Bella tried to return his smile but she was suddenly sick on her stomach. Waving as he drove off, she wondered at the pure good fortune he'd noticed that bit of trouble when he did. She could have cooked the mushrooms and poisoned the gentlemen without knowing her error until it was too late. The fear that welled in her heart was suddenly over powering.

She dropped to her knees right there where she stood and said a fervent prayer, "Thank you, Lord Jesu, for staying my hand and sending Mr. Black my way. I am so grateful that I did not poison Mr. Cullen." Her heart contracted when she thought about that. "And also Mr. Whitlock. And myself, as well. Amen."

She boiled a great cauldron of water and took every kitchen utensil, bowl and pot she could find and put them into it. Then, she opened the cask of vinegar and drenching a rag, scrubbed down every surface in the kitchen that may have come in contact with the poisonous mushrooms.

She was surprised to discover in the midst of this she was crying. Tears were streaming from her eyes as she scrubbed the table, and it wasn't from the vinegar fumes. She was amazed because she could hardly remember the last time she cried. Normally, she took the vagaries of life in stride and worked her way through it. What was her trouble this day? Her astonishment at her behavior had the benefit of stopping her tears.

Once she had finished in the kitchen, she went to see Mrs. Crowley. The kind woman was kneading dough in her kitchen.

"Oh, child! Come in! I was just getting ready to send Angela to see if she could help ye this day."

"Mrs. Crowley, ye are too kind. My gentlemen departed for Alexandria this morn and have left me to my duties here. I believe I shall make much headway while they are gone."

She chuckled. "Aye, that ye will, my dear. 'Tis much easier without a man underfoot."

Smiling weakly, Bella nodded. "Be that as it may, Mrs. Crowley, I came to ask ye to whom I should go for the nightsoilman?"

"That cesspit need attending?"

"'Tis beyond needing attending, ma'am."

"Doesn't surprise me. Mrs. Cullen was putting everything off towards the end. I don't know what had gotten into the woman. 'Twasn't like her to neglect the house. But any road, I'll send Tyler over to Mr. Uley. He and his boys will make a good job o' it."

Mrs. Crowley set the dough aside so that it could rest and then, rinsing her hands in a basin, said, "Now, I believe 'tis the time for a nice cuppa, eh?"

"Oh, Mrs. Crowley that sounds blessed just now."

"I made some sweet bread this morning and we can share a bit of that as well."

She bustled about getting all together then went to the door and called into the yard. "You, Tyler! Attend me, son."

A moment later, Tyler ran into the kitchen and said, "Yes, mama?"

"Get ye over to the Uleys and tell old Sam that his services are needed at the Cullen's."

"Yes, mother." And the boy dashed off.

Turning to Bella, she said, "Come sit by the window, 'tis too hot by the oven."

Bella followed the woman to the table and sat down. Sipping her tea, she heaved a shaky sigh.

Mrs. Crowley studied her, a look of concern on her face, "Have ye been weeping, lass?"

"I suppose I have, missus." Her eyes filled again and she shook her head helplessly.

"My dear, what be the trouble?"

"Oh Mrs. Crowley, Jacob Black found death cap mushrooms in the slop and there were a mort of them in the kitchen. I didn't know what they were and so saved them until I discovered what I should do with them. He thinks they be why Mrs. Cullen and her household died."

"Oh, my dear! That's dreadful. Have ye told your master?"

"No, madam. He had already left when Mr. Black made his discovery. I shall tell him when he returns. I saved a few so he could see them for himself."

"'Tis very sad, my dear, but you knew the family was dead yesterday, so why the tears now?"

"Oh but madam, I could have used those evil things to flavor the gentlemen's food and killed my master and his friend!" she wailed.

Mrs. Crowley reached over and patted Bella's hand, "Now tush, tush, girl. Ye didn't. Ye even said you were waiting to find out what they were before you were going to use them. Ye did right."

"I know…I don't know why I am so fretful. 'Tisn't like me." Bella mopped at her eyes.

"There, there, my dear. It's been a powerful few days for ye. You've been turned upside down, haven't ye? 'Tis no wonder ye be out of sorts. I get sniveling meself at times, especially when the moon has her say. Could it be towards that time for thee?"

Bella blinked and thought. "Perhaps. I took a potion so that it wouldn't come on me when I was aboard ship but I stopped it when I came ashore."

"Potion? What sort of potion?"

"My old friend, Mrs. Cheney, a ship captain's widow gave it to me. She said I wouldn't be wanting to have to deal with rags and such on the voyage."

"Ah, the shipwife's tincture. That's powerful medicine. I wouldn't be surprised if the moon came on you strong this time. No wonder ye be unusually fretful. That potion truly isn't such as I'd have any use for, though. I've heard nasty things of it, I have."

"Nasty things? What sort?"

"Oh, nothing much except it can make ye barren. You be a maiden and not worried about such things, but tell me, how many childless shipwives have you known?"

"I suppose I've known a few. Mrs. Cheney had no children, anyway, but I thought that was because her husband was often away and they do say it takes two, don't they?"

Mrs. Crowley laughed, "Oh it do, lass. Any road, ye only drank it for a short time but I wouldn't take it again if I were ye. Mayhap one day ye'd best like a baby."

Bella shook her head, never foreseeing that in her future, "I doubt I shall ever marry, ma'am."

"Ye never know what the God Lord intends, my dear. I saw the way that young Jacob Black was looking o'er ye."

Bella laughed and said ruefully, "It makes no difference, Mrs. Crowley. I have three years of work ahead of me before I can even contemplate that possibility. And speaking of which, my work is not getting done sitting here. I must go. Thank ye for your advice and the tea. Ye be very good to me, dear lady."

"And what's not to be good for? I will send Angela to ye this afternoon. She enjoyed the tasks yesterday."

"That's good of ye, Mrs. Crowley. I thank ye again."

Bella went back to the Cullen house and to her tasks. She had much to do and the re-scouring of the kitchen put her back some. She was elbow deep in laundering bed linens when there was a tap at the back door.

Waiting there was a tall, rough looking man. "Good day to you, miss. I am Sam Uley, the nightsoilman. I understand you wish me to empty out your privy."

"That I do, sir. When do ye think ye can do it?"

"That depends, miss."

"Upon what, sir?"

"Whether ye can pay me for it as well as for the last time we did the service. Mrs. Cullen owes me still."

Bella sighed, "As to that, sir, I can't say. Mr. Cullen, Mrs. Cullen's nephew, has gone this week to see to matters with the estate but until then, I have no ready money to pay ye."

"Then, I am afraid I cannot help you, miss."

Bella looked beyond him and saw four young men standing in the alley next to what must be his cart. "Are those your laborers, sir?"

"Aye and they also are my sons."

"They look like fine young men, sir. I bet they do eat ye out of house and home."

Sam laughed, "Aye they do that, miss. 'Tis all their mother and I can do to keep them fed."

Bella nodded, "I certainly can see it. In fact, I may be able to help with that. Let us say that you clean out the privy and I give ye a fine ham in payment. It will save ye from having to buy the same from the butcher."

"Let me see the ham, miss."

Bella led him back to the larder and pointed out the hams that were hanging from the ceiling.

"I shall deal with you, miss. I will take the three hams and say that we are even."

"Oh, sir! I was thinking that one ham would be plenty. You can see that it is large and well cured."

"One ham for both jobs?" He shook his head. "Mayhaps two hams, then. One for each cleaning."

"Will you write me a receipt accepting the terms?"

"If you do the writing of it, I'll make my mark."

"Then it is a trade, Mr. Uley." They shook hands on it.

Mr. Uley went out into the yard to get his lads to bring the cart about and begin preparations for their work. Bella decided she'd better warn the neighbors to shut their windows to keep the unavoidable stench from getting inside. She saw Mrs. Crowley all ready shutting up Mr. Banner's home and so she turned to the neighbors on the other side.

Going through the gate that led from the Cullen's yard to theirs, she knocked on the back door. All the houses seemed to have the same plan on Charles Street, so she wasn't surprised when she was answered fairly quickly, the downstairs being the servants work rooms and kitchens.

A tall, grim man answered the door. "Yes?"

"How do ye do, Sir? I be Miss Isabella Swan. I now work next door at the Cullen's. As you can see, the nightsoilmen are beginning their labor on our privy, so I thought I'd tell ye so ye can shut your windows to avoid the stink."

The man looked vexed and said not a word. He fairly growled and then shut the door in Bella's face.

Surprised at his response, Bella threw up her hands and went back to get the windows closed in Mr. Cullen's home. By this time, the Uley's had removed the seat from over the pit and started hauling out the contents with buckets on ropes. The smell was already perfuming the air so Bella hurried to get shut away inside from the noisome odor.

A few minutes later, Angela came to help Bella and as they worked together to lay the freshened carpets back in their rooms, Bella asked, "Are the people on the other side of us friendly?"

"Them? Not often, miss, not even their servants. They keep to themselves."

"I went to warn them of the odor and a large man just stared at me and then shut the door in my face."

"That doesn't surprise me. That would be Mr. Demetri. He is the butler over there. I am surprised he answered the door. Usually it would be his wife doing that duty but she's no friendlier than he is. They're strange, my mother says."

"He seemed put out."

"That's his normal manner, miss, but they did take heed of your warning. All the windows are now closed on the back side of their house."

"Who are their masters, then? What sort of folk are they?"

"The master of that house is Mr. Aro Volturi. His wife, Mistress Sulpicia, is as fancy as they come. I've ne'er seen the color of her eyes as she's always got her nose pointed up in the air. And for all their conceit, her father was but a fishmonger in Philadelphia and Mr. Volturi came to the colonies as a servant just as you have, miss.

"They have a daughter, Jane, who is to be coming out this year but she's mean as a snake. She used to pinch me and throw rocks at me if she thought no one was looking. She was a friend of your master's cousins, Miss Constance and Miss Honoria. The three of them were looking forward to going to all the parties and _fêtes _together after they came out, or at least that is what they chattered about all of the time."

"How do ye know so much about them?"

"I used to be a maid to the Misses Cullen."

"Did ye? Weren't ye full young to have that charge?"

"Yes. Mrs. Cullen called me an apprentice maid and didn't pay me but a penny a week as she said I was still learning my duties."

"That's hardly enough to spit at, Angela."

"I do know that but my mother said it would be good practice for me and that perhaps Mrs. Cullen would give me a reference when I was ready to leave home." Angela shrugged. "Even then, they sent me off last New Year. They said I wasn't suitable, so I didn't get a reference after all. But truly, I think I was let go mostly because Mrs. Cullen couldn't afford to pay me even the little bit she had been but was too proud to admit it."

"What a trouble poor Mrs. Cullen had."

"Oh but she had plans, Miss Isabella."

Bella felt a little guilty gossiping about her erstwhile employer but she was curious and she thought she knew some of Mrs. Cullen's ambitions, "She wished to marry her daughters to well to do men?"

Angela's eyes widened in remembered excitement, "Aye, that she did. And guess to whom she wanted to marry one of them?"

Bella was baffled, "I couldn't say."

"Her nephew, Mr. Edward Cullen!"

**AN**

**Some of you wanted to know how much Aunt Abby was in debt in current values. This is really hard to figure out exactly because worth is relative, yanno? But anyway using an on line comparison engine (and who knows how accurate that is) £1298 may be worth about $30,000 today according to the Consumer Price Index and $660,000 according to an unskilled wage chart. This just proves that poor people were really, really poor in those days.**

**As far as Edward accidently seeing Bella in the bath… please remember she was only lit by a fire and perhaps a candle. The room was dark else, so we are talking about shapes and shadows and glistening, wet skin. The Georgians appreciated a beauty and a beautiful naked body wouldn't (and really shouldn't today, honestly) only inspire lust but also appreciation and awe. In this case, Edward was overwhelmed by Bella's beauty. His baser instincts were aroused as well but his overriding feeling was amazement and approaching adoration.**

**Nightsoilmen – these were the guys who occasionally came to clean out your privy. In the countryside, when a privy got "too full" it was simply filled with dirt and the outhouse was dug in a new location but in the city, they didn't have the room for that, so therefore there were guys with evidently no sense of smell who would come and clean them out by hauling the waste up in buckets, hauling it off and then dumping it somewhere. Many times it was made into manure (which wasn't the most sanitary thing to do but they didn't realize that). They are called nightsoilmen because frequently this task was done at night. I thought the wolfpack would be good candidates for that job. At this time, I am not introducing our Native Americans into the story.**

_**Looking and feeling more the thing**_** - that was a colloquialism of the time that just meant you felt good, were in the groove, so to speak.**

**Bella's complexion was unmarred because she grew up on a farm and milked cows. During that time, she came down with a mild form of small pox, called cow pox. Cow pox does not leave scars. Small pox does; really bad ones, like the worst acne scars you can imagine. If you got cow pox, you're naturally immune to small pox. This is why the saying as "smooth as a milk maid's skin" was a truism. People noticed this correlation without understanding why, so many well to do families sent their daughters to learn to milk cows when they were girls in hopes they'd come down with cow pox. That way when it was time for them to find a husband, their skin would be "smooth as a milk maid's." Small pox has been eradicated world-wide since 1977, thanks to God and modern medicine. I am old enough to have had a small pox vaccination on my shoulder and the scar to prove it.**

**Porridge = oatmeal but the nutritional content was better. Many people lived off of the stuff in those days.**

**Rundlet = a container than held sixteen gallons. A half-rundlet held eight gallons.**

**Shipwife/shipwives = I made this up, I am referring to women who go to sea frequently and in most cases that would be the Captain's wife.**

**These days, first cousins usually don't marry because of consanguinity but in those days it was acceptable. It was the way they kept family money in the family. I remember talking to a friend who had watched one of the movie adaptations of Jane Austen's **_**Mansfield Park**_** and he said he missed the whole point of the story (that Fanny would fall in love with her cousin Edmund and they'd get married) because he didn't realize that it was ever acceptable to marry your first cousin. It sort of squicked my friend out but then, when I think of my own cousins, I feel the same way.**

**The term **_**Mushroom**_** was applied at the time to people who had suddenly grown rich and threw their money around in a tasteless manner. So, the title of this chapter refers to the mushrooms you can eat (or be poisoned by) and the mushrooms who were people.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Chapter 9 Alexandria**

* * *

Chapter 9 Alexandria

"My son, it seems that your aunt has left you in quite a financial bind." Carlisle put down the ledger and looked over his spectacles at Edward who was seated across from him. "What do you plan to do?"

They were in Carlisle's study in the family home on King Street in Alexandria. Edward had arrived before supper the day before and been welcomed back into the fold with open arms. The morning sun was shining through the windows flush with the first warmth of spring. Edward's father had spent the early hours going over the papers concerning Abigail Cullen's estate.

Edward sighed and said, "The only choices I have, father, are to sell the property or find a means to keep it."

"Let me rephrase, then. What do you wish to do?"

"If I had the wherewithal, I would stay in Annapolis. It's a fine home and a good town with many interests. In addition, Aunt's lawyer, Samuel Chase, has offered me the opportunity to read law with him so that I might finish my studies."

"That is a promising prospect, indeed. I am glad to see you will be able to finish your education. Though, it is unfortunate there is no income with the property to maintain you during that process."

"Very true."

"If you sold the house would you realize enough to clear the debts?"

"Not enough, father. I would probably be able clear half of them but not all. And then there would be the question of what would I do with myself after that? I want to strike out on my own and was enjoying the idea of practicing law but as of the moment, that has been denied to me."

Carlisle studied the report that Samuel Chase included with the ledger. "It says here that the merchants would allow you to pay over time."

"I'd still need an income even to do that."

"You have an allowance."

"I do, thanks to you. You granted it to me while I was reading law in Williamsburg. It wouldn't be right to continue to accept it."

"I certainly wouldn't mind extending the stipend, especially if you are going to pick up the reins of your studies again. Is there any of the property you could sell?"

"The furnishings are pleasant but nothing of much value. I believe Aunt Abigail sold off as much as she could before she died. However, there is one thing I don't think she realized she had…"

Carlisle looked questioningly at his son.

"It seems Uncle Cullen laid down quite a fine cellar during his lifetime. It is worth quite a lot."

"That doesn't surprise me. My brother had a taste for the finer things in life. I am astounded that Abigail would allow him that indulgence, though."

"Why not? Couldn't a man do as he chose?"

Carlisle laughed. "It is true that a man is the head of his household and a woman is but the neck. However you must remember, son, it is the _neck_ that turns the _head_."

Edward was astonished. In his own family, it was clear to all that Carlisle was lord and master. His mother was kind and gracious but always deferred to his father. "Surely, in our family that is not the case."

Smiling, Carlisle shook his head. "Edward you have much to learn about women, especially gracious and wise women like your mother. There's nothing that goes on in this household without her tacit approval and encouragement."

"But she always agrees with you."

"The face we show to the world is unified but I will tell you, some of our private discussions have been heated and more often than not her word held sway over mine, especially when it came to our home and family." His eyes sparkled as if remembering some of those conversations.

"I wouldn't want such adversarial relations with my wife." Edward thought the whole thing was distasteful. A man shouldn't be challenged in his own home. But then he thought about the discussion he had with a certain brown-eyed beauty on the nature of charity and paused. The feelings he had at that time weren't those of distaste, but of surprise and approval.

"Edward, I can't envision you paired with a woman who didn't challenge you. You'd be bored as nails within a fortnight. A good wife is a helpmeet, not simply an ornament on your arm and warmth in your bed. She gives good counsel and sometimes that counsel won't be what you want but will be exactly what you need."

Edward thought about that. He had never paid much attention to the marriage his parents had. It had always seemed a calm and happy union. They appeared to be well pleased with each other and always in agreement but apparently he was unaware of how they managed to achieve such equanimity. He needed to pay closer attention.

Carlisle interrupted his musings at this point, "This does lead us into another train of thought. Have you given any thought to marriage?"

Edward blinked. "Marriage? No, I haven't. I am not settled in life and so I thought I would put off that pleasure for a few years."

"Many in your position have looked about for a rich wife to ease their burdens."

This was a day of surprises for Edward. Was his father suggesting that he enter the marriage mart simply to procure a fortune? But then he supposed that was what a marriage mart was, now that he thought of it. "What would a rich wife want with me? I have nothing to offer her."

His father actually snorted. "Edward, this is an area in which your mother would be best suited to give you guidance but I believe you could convince a fair maiden to see you kindly if you had a mind to."

Edward had no response. He just stared at his father in aghast. Under no circumstances would he be interested in earning a fortune through his marriage bed.

Carlisle could tell this particular advice was not being taken too easily, as he expected. He wouldn't have wanted to marry to obtain a fortune himself when he was Edward's age. He had married for affection and truly, he hoped his son would be able to do the same. So, he returned to the original subject. "Be that as it may, how much do you think the cellar is worth?"

"I had a spirit merchant in last week to take its measure. He estimated the whole lot could sell for as much as £200."

"Two hundred pounds? That's an amazing amount." Carlisle was truly stunned. "And Abigail had no idea of its worth?"

"I think not, else wouldn't she have sold it?"

"I suppose so. Have you a buyer for it?"

"The merchant is seeking interested parties. I am hoping to get a price approaching his estimate. Two hundred would see the most pressing debts paid."

"I would buy it myself if it didn't have to be transported so far. It would take a goodly amount of time for the wine to settle afterwards. If the cellar should sell, all you shall need then is operating expenses. From that you could pay your creditors over time and afford your living expenses."

"Jasper has offered to pay me room and board for living in my house."

"His father will agree to it?"

"I believe so, especially if Jasper takes up his studies again as I will. Our plan is to ask Mr. Chase if he could recommend a colleague. There are many lawyers in Annapolis due to the fact it is the seat of government for the colony."

They heard a bell ring in the house and Carlisle rose to his feet, "It seems that we have solved some of your problems. Edward, I am still willing to offer you a stipend until you can start a law practice."

Edward rose as well. "That is generous of you, father."

"The bell calls us to dinner. We shall explain your plan to your mother. Mayhap she will have some wisdom to offer."

Carlisle led the way to the dining room where a toothsome dinner was awaiting them as well as Esme, Edward's mother, and Rosalie, his younger sister.

"Edward, I am so glad to have you home. I have missed your presence greatly," Esme said.

"'Tis good to be home. I've missed you all as well." Edward held a chair for his mother to sit in.

"So, will you be staying here, then?" Esme asked hopefully.

"No, mother, I have the opportunity to read law in Annapolis and since I have a house there, it seems that is what I ought to do."

Esme looked a little disappointed but she said, "That sounds like a solid prospect. Aunt Abigail's house is very nice and it isn't so very far from Alexandria."

"Only a half day's journey by boat, mother. Nearer than Williamsburg was."

"That's very true, son."

The Cullen family enjoyed their meal together, the ladies chattering about the latest _on dits_ about town. Towards the end of their meal there was a knock at the door and a few minutes later, their servant entered the room and intoned, "Mr. Jasper Whitlock."

Jasper stepped into the room and bowed to the family, "Good afternoon, dear friends."

"Oh Jasper, welcome. I am sorry but you have missed dinner. We were just having the sweet with our tea. Would you join us?" Esme asked.

"Don't worry, madam. I dined with my father but I wouldn't say no to the sweet." He smiled and pulled out an empty chair next to Edward.

"Hill, a plate for Mr. Whitlock, please," Esme directed the servant.

Turning to their guest, she said, "Jasper, how are your dear mama and papa?"

The young man made a wry face. "To tell the truth, I am not in good odor at home."

"No? What mischief have you gotten in to, Jasper?" Esme, well familiar with the lad since he was in leading strings, was used to his scrapes.

"It seems my father received a letter from Mr. Wythe that was rather to the point. Evidently, our esteemed friend was unhappy with my departure from Williamsburg. My father is insisting I go back to my studies or he'll put me to work in the shipyard."

"The shipyard is honest work, Jasper," Carlisle said.

"It is that, Mr. Cullen, but I've no interest in tonnage and the like. I can see myself arguing a point of law in a courtroom, not arguing tariff fees in a shipping office."

"Do you think Mr. Chase will assist you in your search for a mentor?"

"Actually, I sent him a letter yesterday morning before leaving that town and directed him to send his response to m'father's if he would. I am hoping for the best."

"And so you would live in Edward's house if your plans come to fruition?" Esme asked.

"I do believe so, ma'am. For some reason, he seems to enjoy my company."

Edward smiled at his friend. "There aren't many I've come across who wouldn't enjoy your company, sir. You charm the aged and the young alike."

Esme said, "But Edward, I know there are no servants at your house. Old Peter and his wife, Charlotte, were stricken with the same sickness that took our family. Surely you don't plan to act as housekeeper as well as all the rest you shall have to do."

Edward's ears turned pink as he said, "I believe that has been seen to, mother."

"Seen to? How so?"

Jasper's eyes darted back and forth between Esme and her son. When Edward said nothing, Jasper decided to help. "Did not Edward tell you of the indentured servant?"

Startled, all eyes turned to Edward as Esme said, "No he did not. What's this, my son?"

Exhaling heavily, Edward said, "It seems that Aunt Abigail took the indenture of a servant in preparation for launching Honoria and Constance in to _le monde_. I only discovered it when she appeared on my doorstep the day before we left."

Carlisle exclaimed, "Indentured servant? How would one such as they know to bring gently reared girls out into society?"

"It seems Aunt thought that paying the passage for a professional seamstress thus procuring her services for three years would assist in her mission quite well."

Esme was studying her son. He had been uncharacteristically reticent concerning this person and now his ears were red. That was a sure sign that something was amiss. "Truly, Abigail didn't have such a poor idea in that. The seamstress would make all their clothing and due to the nature of her trade, would know how a well dressed girl should be presented. But Edward, my dear, you have no use for a seamstress."

"So he told her, ma'am," Jasper said, "but she took one look at the way we bachelors were living and offered her services as a housekeeper. I believe she was horrified at our disheveled surroundings, as a matter of fact."

"So I can imagine, but she is a seamstress not a housekeeper. Has she the skills she needs for that?"

Finally Edward spoke up, "I am giving her a trial, mother. The servant market isn't until next week, so I allowed her to work as she could in the meantime. If she doesn't suit, I can sell her indenture at auction."

"But, Mrs. Cullen, she did work miracles in just the day she was there before we left. I am sure she is up to the job." Jasper hoped Bella would stay. He already liked her wit and appreciated her abilities.

"She did do very well, mother, and I couldn't turn her out into the streets. She had no place to go."

Carlisle said, "No son, you did right. She is an asset of your estate. You can sell her indenture for ready cash if she isn't up to the responsibilities of housekeeping."

Esme took a sip of her tea, apparently cogitating upon Edward's situation. "Does she seem a fit person? I am sure she's close to her middle ages being a skilled seamstress as she is."

Merry Jasper said, "No, she's no more than one and twenty I would say, and she has a neat figure. She cleaned up well after she got the stench of the ship off of her."

In addition to his ears, Edward's cheeks now were bright red and all sorts of alarms went off in his mother's mind. She'd bet her next year's wardrobe that there was something about this little seamstress that caught her son's interest, and that made the woman and the situation dangerous.

"We could use a dresser, couldn't we Rosalie?" she asked.

Rosalie looked at her mother in surprise, "But we already have Susan, mama."

At the same time, Carlisle spoke, "We don't need another servant in this house, my love."

Joining in, Edward exclaimed, "I need the services of a housekeeper, mother."

Esme looked around at the varying degrees of discomfort displayed before her. Rosalie simply disliked having strangers about her, Carlisle was thinking of his wallet, and Edward seemed intent upon keeping the maid.

She decided to attack this conundrum in a different way and at a different time, "'Twas just a suggestion, no bother. So Jasper, do you plan to attend the assembly this Thursday?"

The conversation veered in another direction but Edward knew better than to think his mother had put the matter to rest. He never knew how she could determine when he was flustered by something and in Bella's case, he was more than flustered. He was entranced. He wasn't looking forward to combating his mother's machinations. He knew already that she wished to separate him from his nightingale.

* * *

Rosalie threw down the pillowcase she was embroidering and exclaimed, "Mother, I am so dreadfully bored!"

Esme looked up from the handkerchief she was hemming, "Bored? How so?"

"Do you think anyone who has a brain in their head would care that they had satin-stitched flowers on their bed linen? This is the most useless piece of foolery."

"What would you wish to do then, daughter?"

The girl sighed petulantly and said, "I don't know but this isn't it."

Esme nodded. "I completely understand. At your age you are in a pother to do something meaningful. You want action. You want to make your own decisions. You want to run your own household, your own life."

Rosalie looked thoughtful and said, "That's exactly it, mother, but I don't want to marry just yet and that seems to be the only way that I shall ever be in charge of a household."

"Ah daughter, it isn't the only way. You could take charge of your brother's household. He is in desperate need of a ladies' hand in his home."

"You think Edward would have me as his hostess and the ordering of his household?"

"I think he'd be delighted. He has enough on his shoulders without worrying about such things. It isn't a man's nature. In the help you give me in running this one, you have demonstrated your competence. You would make him proud and at the same time ease his burden."

"But mother, wouldn't you miss me?"

"Of course I would, but 'tis a mother's duty to see to the best well being of her children. I think that your keeping house for Edward would be both good for you and for him. Besides, Annapolis isn't that far away. You liked the town right well when you visited last year."

"Aye, I did." Rose's eyes glinted with a fond memory.

"We shall see. It mightn't work out. Now, daughter, please finish that embroidery work." And they both took up where they left off on their tasks. Rosalie didn't notice her mother's satisfied smile but then, Esme didn't notice the hopeful sparkle in her daughter's eyes, either.

* * *

"My dear, I was thinking about Edward's situation."

Carlisle rolled over on his side as he lay next to his wife and smiled. "I would you were thinking of other things at this moment, my love." He lifted a hand to trace the slope of her shoulder.

"I simply can't get his need out of my mind." But she placed her hand over her husband's heart and gazed back into his eyes.

"He seems well placed, my dear." Carlisle began stroking Esme's arm.

"But he needs someone to run his household and direct his servant. He wouldn't know how to do that very well himself."

"What do you propose?"

"I was thinking that I could travel to Annapolis to take over the running of Edward's household. Rose could take care of you here in Alexandria."

The look that crossed Carlisle's face was comical. "But, my dear, that would mean we would be parted."

He pulled her close and she reached up to kiss his neck. "I would hate to leave you, my darling, but whom could we send that would have Edward's best interests at heart?"

Carlisle leaned back and stared into Esme's seemingly guileless eyes, "What do you want, Esme? What plot are you hatching?"

"Plot? 'Tis no plot— a plan, perhaps."

"Then, my love, what are you planning?"

Giving up any artifice she simply said, "I think it would be a very good idea to send Rosalie with Edward to mind his household affairs."

"Uhmm humm. And you think she has the ability to do it?"

"I do; and the wit as well."

"You surprise me, my dear."

"Why is that?"

"Just the other day you were bemoaning how you'd no wish to see our daughter married any time soon because that would mean her departure from our home and how lonely you would be. And now you are rather encouraging her leaving."

"I will miss both of my children but Annapolis is not that far away and besides, I think it best that Edward doesn't have to deal with the burden of directing the servant."

Carlisle cocked an eye at the manner in which his wife phrased herself. "The servant? Do you think Edward would take advantage of his position?"

"No, not intentionally but there was something in his manner when she was mentioned at table today … did you not find it unusual? I know our son is an honorable man but to have him and young Jasper alone in the house with a comely maidservant is inviting trouble, don't you think? And we know nothing about this girl, where she came from, who her people are. I think putting Rosalie between Edward and this girl will give him the distance he needs to avoid any impropriety."

Carlisle laid back and stared at the ceiling of their bedroom, "And you deduced this all from what he didn't say at one meal."

"I know our son. Besides, Rosalie needs something worthwhile to occupy herself. Running his household will provide it."

"So be it, my wife."

Esme smiled, then leaned up on her elbow to look down at her husband and said with a coquettish smile, "Now that Edward has been dealt with, it leaves my mind free to wander to other things."

Carlisle chuckled. "Shall we allow our minds to wander together?"

As she smiled, he took her into his arms and began to kiss her.

What was it that he was telling his son this morning? Something about how Esme's and his private discussions were sometimes heated? Oh, how he always rejoiced in his wife's delectable warmth.

* * *

Finally, at the end of a long, work filled week Bella was able to sit down to write the promised letter to Mrs. Cheney back in Portsmouth. She opened her letter with thanks and appreciation for without the kind woman's help in preparing her for her journey, she would never have arrived in Annapolis as hale and hearty as she did. She thanked her also for the introduction to Emmett McCarty.

Bella paused in her writing to remember Emmett McCarty's visit the day Mr. Cullen and Mr. Whitlock left for Alexandria. He had been rather distraught to discover the Cullen ladies had died and that Bella was now accountable to Mrs. Cullen's nephew, Edward Cullen. It had taken Bella some time to reassure the gentleman that she was in a good place and she feared no harm would come to her as the man's servant. Emmett seemed reassured and he did tell her as far as he knew, Edward Cullen was a decent person. Again, he made Bella promise to call upon him when in need. With that he was off, having to travel to Philadelphia for business with his Captain.

Bella went on to write about the death of the Cullen ladies and her change of duties because of it. She wrote about the house and the work she had done with the help of Angela Crowley.

She had decided to thank Angela for her labor by making her a new dress out of the material she had found in the Cullen household. Bella smiled, remembering the delight Angela had in picking out the fabric and discussing the pattern of her new dress. It had been many years since the girl had anything more than something made over, so having a new dress was an incredible treat. But Angela did do much work to earn that new dress. It was the least Bella could do.

Bella folded the letter, sealed it with some wax she had found in a desk and set it aside to mail when she next was able to walk to the posting station near the docks.

After Mr. Uley and his sons took their leave after cleaning out the privy, she found some white paint in a storage shed and she and Angela painted the inside of the necessary so that not only did it smell almost new, it looked it, too. Bella cleaned up the yard, raking the old leaves and twigs that had littered the dorment lawn. She saw that along the fences that divided the Cullen's yard from the neighbors', were weedy flower and kitchen garden beds. She found a treasure trove of seeds in one of the pantries, all marked well as to their species and decided that she'd put in a garden of vegetables and herbs on one side and a flower garden on the other. That is, if she was still here when planting time came upon them.

Together, Angela and Bella moved the furniture one by one out of each room, washed down the walls and windows, and polished the floors to a bright shine. Every carpet and every drape in the house had been taken out and beaten clean. Every curtain had been washed and pressed. Every stick of furniture, polished until it glowed. Every drawer was emptied and resorted. Every cupboard, arranged neatly. After a long week's work, the house was finally up to Bella's tidy standards.

Bella found many things she could use to make the housework easier but her biggest find was up in the attic where there were boxes and boxes of books. Bella opened one book and saw on the fly leaf was the name _Thomas Cullen_. She suspected that these books had belonged to Mrs. Cullen's husband at one time. Evidently, Thomas Cullen's widow had no use for his library. It must have been that after his death, she boxed up his study and turned his refuge into a lady's morning room.

"I know what my master would prefer, Angela. He would rather have a library than a place to sit and gossip."

With Tyler's help, they moved all the boxes down to the study and unpacked them one by one. They repacked the gewgaws that Mrs. Cullen had decorating the bookshelves and put them in the lumber room in the attic. Bella could see the books were organized in a fashion so she tried to keep them in the order she found them. By the end of that day, Mr. Cullen had a study of which any man would be proud.

When cleaning Mrs. Cullen's and her daughter's former bedrooms, Bella realized that the mattresses for each bed needed to be replaced as well as the matress in the attic where Old Peter and his wife, Charlotte, slept. Evidently their sicknesses had been severe and the miasma of their deaths lingered in the bedding. Bella found a bolt of ticking in the hall cupboard and quickly cut and sewed a new casing for each mattress.

The next day, Mrs. Crowley pointed her in the direction of the local poulterer. This lady, Mrs. Dowling, lived on the outskirts town and raised a variety of birds; chickens, ducks and geese. She had a dozen children tumbling around in the yard along with the rooster, hens and downy ducklings and was a merry soul. She sold eggs, poultry and down for a living as her husband was at sea.

"He do come home long enough to leave me with another baby and then he's off again." She laughed. "I doubt he even remembers half their names."

Bella laughed as well but they soon got down to business, "I have need of four down-filled mattresses; two large, two small. I've made the cases - they just need to be filled."

"That's plenty of down you'll be needin', miss. How much will you be willing to pay for it?"

"Do you have the down at the ready?"

"Oh yes, indeed I do. Clean as it can be, as well. As fine a down as you'd find in any castle."

"Are there castles in the colonies?" Bella asked in confusion.

"Well, as to that, no. But if there were, my down would be good enough for them. I should know because my mam worked in a castle back in old England, she did."

"Did she? That's very impressive."

"Aye. She used to spend her days telling me about it. Her mistress even gave her a fine dress when she grew tired o'it. Would you like to see?"

"With great pleasure."

After entering her cluttered cottage, she led Bella over to a chest and lifting the lid, dug around until she pulled out a large parcel wrapped in silver paper. "Here 'tis."

Unwrapping the paper revealed a dress made out of beautiful red brocade and lace. "Have you ever seen anything as beautiful as that?" The woman said.

"It is indeed a beautiful dress, ma'am. Don't you ever wear it?"

"Pshaw. Me mother was a full half a foot shorter than me. It would never fit."

Bella studied the construction of the garment, "It could easily be made over. There's plenty of extra fabric that could be added on as a flounce to make up the length. I could do it for you in exchange for the down filling."

"Could you?" The lady's eyes widened, then she looked back at the dress as it was spread out on the table and laid a work roughed hand upon it. "And wouldn't I look as fine as a summer's day dressed in that when my man comes home again? It's plenty of work, though."

"I am a seamstress by trade, ma'am, and I used to make over clothes all the time. I trust you'll look a treat when I am done."

And so, that is how Bella got new mattresses to replace the soiled ones in the house. And the poultry lady was more than pleased with her new dress. In fact, she was so pleased, she gave Bella a full three dozen eggs and a couple of pullets in addition to the down.

Bella took the money she was given and bartered her way into a larder full of food. She even had a little left over to return to Mr. Cullen when he arrived the next day.

The night before his expected return, she checked through every room in the house to make sure all was as it should be. Satisfied with what she found, there was nothing more to do but to sleep and be up betimes the next morning. She found she was oddly nervous about the coming of her master and after getting into her night shift, knelt by her bed to pray, "Dear Lord Jesu, I've done all I knew to do. I hope Mr. Cullen is pleased. I truly don't want to leave. Please let him keep me and let him have a safe journey back to me. Amen."

The next day, Bella spent the morning in the kitchen baking bread, pies and cakes. She'd soaked the ham the day before and it was in the large Dutch oven cooking away over the coals. She prepared the pullets and made a large cottage pie. There were turnips ready to boil and potatoes prepared to roast in the coals.

That imp, Tyler had gone down to the docks to keep an eye out for Mr. Cullen's arrival and when at last the boat docked, he dashed to Charles Street to give Bella fair warning.

Her heart felt like it was pounding in her throat as she waited inside the doorway. Finally, she saw a hired carriage turn into the street and pull up to the house. She stepped out onto the top step, wearing her blue dress, freshly washed and pressed for the occasion, her hands folded in front and eyes downcast.

The carriage door opened, and Edward emerged. He stopped and looked up at her. When their eyes met, suddenly Bella felt as though the rest of the world had dissolved away and all that was left was the two of them. She wasn't sure but it felt as though her heart stopped beating for a moment.

"I say, old man, are you going to stand there all day?" Jasper prodded Edward in the back and suddenly the world snapped to again and blushing, Bella lowered her eyes and waited for the gentlemen to climb the stairs.

Edward murmured an apology and turned to the carriage driver to help him unload the many cases and trunks the conveyance was carrying. Bella was surprised that the gentlemen brought so much back with them until she realized they hadn't traveled alone.

Jasper was handing the most beautiful lady Bella had ever seen out of the carriage. She was a vision with the blondest hair and the bluest eyes and the fairest skin. Jasper led the woman to the stairs as Edward joined them.

"Miss Swan," Edward said. "This is my sister, Miss Rosalie Cullen. She will be my hostess and have the ordering of my home. You will refer to her for guidance in doing your duties."

"Yes, sir." Bella curtsied, a lingering blush on her cheek.

Rosalie was no slouch. She saw very plainly the look Edward had shared with the maid. She arched a brow and thought, "_So, this is why mama bid me come to Annapolis. She either wants me to protect my brother from the maid— or the maid from my brother."_

**AN:**

**I found a great article on comparison of costs in the colonial era versus today's. Here's an excerpt:**

"_**Jon Boucher, a schoolmaster in Caroline County, Virginia, earned an annual salary of £60 in 1759. McCusker's [monetary comparison] system tells us that Boucher's earnings would be roughly equal to $4,000 in 2000. But he [Boucher] also got his room and board, and was at liberty to take on other students. At that, Boucher probably wouldn't buy a pair of pistols at £3 15s. p., about $340 in 2000; a saddle at £2, almost $180 in 2000; or a wig at £1 12s. 6p., about $145 in 2000. More likely purchases and their 2000 approximations include: a pound of butter, 4p., or $1.50; a yard of flannel cloth, 1s. 3p., or $5.60; a grubbing hoe, 5s. 6p., or $25; a prayer book, 3s., or $13.40; and a bushel of salt, 4s., or $18. All consumer goods above reflect 1755 prices in Virginia, and modern figures are rounded for ease of understanding."**_

**One of my pre-readers expressed surprise at how little Abigail Cullen's town house was worth but in fact real estate wasn't as expensive comparatively as it is today. I got the above information from the Colonial Williamsburg website. **

**The roads were bad so most travel was done by ship. Edward didn't own a horse as horses were expensive to stable.**

**_on dits_**** - gossip**

**_le monde_**** - the world, specifically society. (not a scoop of ice cream.)**

**A pullet is a young hen, just right for eating.**

**We shall see if Jasper got a position reading law in the next chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Housekeeping**

* * *

Edward stood in the middle of his study completely stunned.

He turned slowly around and saw shelf after shelf filled with as superior a library as the wine cellar was filled with fine wine below.

"Where did she get them?" he wondered aloud.

When he left for Alexandria, this was completely a woman's sitting room; the only reading material he remembered seeing in it was a back issued copy of a collection of fashion plates. Even the furniture had been changed. Gone were the divans, flimsy slipper chairs and elbow tables. Now there was a substantial mahogany desk with a comfortable chair behind it. He recognized the two wing-backed chairs that were placed on either side of the fire place as coming from bedrooms upstairs.

"How did she do this?"

He noticed hunting prints adorning the walls in place of the needle pointed monstrosities that had hung there previously.

He was astonished. This delightful woman, who had inhabited his every dream for a week was also evidently a miracle worker, a conjurer, an alchemist who created gold from dross.

He shook his head in bemusement and ran his hand across the gleaming, dark wood of the desk. He pulled open a drawer to find it completely furnished with quills ready to be sharpened, the pen knife alongside them. There was a stack of stationery next to that. On top of the desk was a tooled leather blotter. On a small tray were an ink well, a stack of blotting paper and a shaker of sand. He could easily envision himself writing at this desk and comfortably reading in one of the chairs near the fire. Never had his every desire been anticipated so exactingly.

"But how did she…?"

He sank down into the padded leather desk chair and shook his head again. He was baffled.

When they arrived that noon, Rosalie had whisked Bella upstairs, leaving the gentlemen to their own devices. Right away, Jasper noticed the delicious aroma permeating the air from the kitchen. He commented that he was sharp set and hoped they could eat soon. With that in mind, both gentlemen followed the ladies, intending to put their portmanteaus into their rooms. The carriage driver and his helper started lugging the trunks and chests in behind them.

Rosalie was standing in the hallway with Bella at her side directing the luggage into the appropriate rooms.

"I thought, Edward, that since you are the master of the house, you should take the large bedroom. Swan was telling me that she has thoroughly prepared all the rooms, so they are ready for use. I shall take the chamber that was our cousins'. It has two small beds but it does have two wardrobes and two bureaus which will lend themselves to my needs better than the rest do. Jasper can have his former room and when mother and father come to visit, the last room will be awaiting them."

Edward nodded as he listened but was keenly observing all the work that had been done in his absence and was pleased that Bella had been able to make his home comfortable. It didn't matter, though. He had already determined he would keep her no matter what they found when they returned. But what they did find in his home was so much more than he ever expected.

"You've done very well, Miss Swan. Thank you."

Bella had been standing quietly as Rosalie directed the gentlemen but at his comment she looked up at him and smiled. "Thank ye, sir."

Though his heart stuttered again when their eyes met, he was mindful this time of the others; more specifically Rosalie, who was observing this interchange with narrowed eyes. Her expression caught him off-guard. Damme if she didn't look the spitting image of their mother at that moment.

Nodding, he left the hallway and the others to their pursuits and went into his new bedroom. It was spacious with a large bed and two long windows overlooking the street. The walls were covered in hand-painted Chinese wallpaper that elegantly depicted a menagerie of birds in their natural setting. Aunt Abigail had been inordinately proud of the expensive paper and never hesitated to show it off when she had the chance. Edward had never paid much attention to it before but this time a certain pair of birds immediately caught his eye.

The two unremarkable birds were perched upon a delicately flowering tree. One was trilling its beautiful song; the other was bowing down as it listened, as though captivated.

They were nightingales.

Later on at dinner, Bella calmly served as he, Rosalie, and Jasper ate the feast she had prepared for them. He noticed she was deft and sure as she worked. Jasper, as usual, was regaling them with his idle chatter and quirky sense of humor.

"I was pleased to receive the letter from Mr. Chase informing me that he had found a place for me. It has all worked out perfectly."

Edward commented, "Yes, it all seems meant to be."

Casting an arched look at her brother, Rosalie asked Jasper, "With whom will you be reading?"

"A fellow by the name of Abraham Brandon. He wrote to me as well and seems an erudite gentleman. He lives across the street from the Chases. You'll remember Edward, it's the grand house that flies that hideously huge Union Jack."

Edward nodded, "I believe we met the Brandons last summer, did we not Rosalie?"

"Ah, yes. Wasn't there a daughter?" Rose's brow creased as if she was trying to remember.

"That's right, Miss Alice Brandon. We were introduced to her at a soiree once. I thought her quite engaging but for some reason our paths never seemed to cross after that."

Rosalie would never do anything as indelicate as snort but that was pretty much what it sounded like before she said, "That was aunt's doing. She kept you away from any female you may have considered 'engaging' as I recall."

Edward looked at his sister in surprise, "Why would she do that?"

"She wanted you for one of our cousins, of course."

This was astonishing news to Edward. "As in to wed?"

"Yes, Sir Oblivious. 'Twas always her aim. It was evident to me."

Jasper chortled, "Your aunt had plans. Were the poor souls handsome ladies?"

Shaking his head, Edward replied, "They weren't ladies. They were still only girls and they hardly had two sensible words to say between them."

"Edward didn't realize it but he intimidated them, Jasper. They hung on his every word and giggled endlessly but they couldn't seem to construct a sentence in his presence."

Jasper's teasing nature couldn't resist japing at Edward. "My dear friend, I had no idea you were such an attractive article to the ladies. Should I stand as guard for your virtue?"

Edward cleared his voice, not deigning to respond. "What are your plans for this afternoon, sir?"

"I have been asked to pay an afternoon visit with my new mentor, so that is what I shall do. I may drop by Molly's for a cuddle after. I've missed her company."

Rosalie looked a little stunned at such a boldly stated lascivious intent at her dinner table and looked to Edward to correct Jasper's impertinence.

"Rosalie, Molly's Tavern serves a very flavorful fish soup. Jasper has grown rather fond of it. Personally, I think Molly herself should be wary of his intentions. He may decide to marry her if it means he can have that concoction morning, noon, and night."

"I may very well do, old friend, but for now I must be away. Mr. Brandon is expecting me within the hour." Jasper arose and after bowing to Rosalie and Edward and winking at Bella, he left.

Smiling softly, Bella quietly removed his setting from the table and returned to her station as Rosalie and Edward finished their meal.

"Do you have plans for the afternoon, sister?"

"I shall unpack and settle in my chamber and try to get my bearings. Things seem to be in fine fettle here from what I can see. Swan, I would like to confer with you before supper, if that is possible. I have much to learn and I am sure you can give me some direction in that."

Bella curtsied and said, "Of course, miss."

Rosalie rose as Edward also stood in courtesy to her.

"I believe I shall get on with it then," she said. "I shall see you again at supper, brother."

They parted and Rosalie went up to her chamber as Edward took a moment to look through the rooms on the main floor to discover what wonders Bella had wrought there. That was when he had found his study.

He had been sitting at his desk, staring off into the distance ruminating about the day's events when he decided to go to the source of all his unspoken turmoil to see if some of his questions could be answered. And also, though he had dared not admit it to himself, he wanted to be in her company again.

He went into the hallway and heard the soft clatter of dishes in the dining room. Bella had finished clearing the table and was placing the epergne in its center when he found her and asked, "Miss Swan when you have a moment, could you come see me in my study, please?"

"Of course, sir."

She turned to make sure all was as it should be in the room, and then followed him back down the hall.

When she entered the room, Edward turned to her and said, "What a miracle you have performed in this house, Miss Swan. I am at wit's end trying to decipher how you managed it."

Bella tried to discern if he was unhappy at her efforts but his look was gentle and his tone was soft. "The house was well equipped, sir. It was just a matter of discovering where everything was and arranging it in ways I thought you would prefer."

"But these books? Where did you get them?"

"They were neatly put up in crates in the attic. I reckoned that a man like yourself would be more interested in a library than a sewing room, so I brought them downstairs. I packed your aunt's decorations into the same boxes and they are now safely in the attic ready for you to look through them when ye wish."

Edward shuddered, "I doubt I should ever wish. Aunt Cullen's tastes and mine were far apart. But where did you find this desk?"

"That was in the attic, as well. And the desk set was there also, stored in a box. I just brought it all down with the pictures ye see on the wall. I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Thomas Cullen could now recognize this room as exactly as he left it, sir."

"What did you do with the furniture that was here?"

"I put some of it in the attic and some I put in other rooms where I felt they leant themselves to usefulness. I…er…I did take one chair and brought it down to the bedchamber I am using. I can return it if that was too presumptuous of me."

"Oh, no. I certainly don't mind. Keep it. This room will be a delight for me to use. Thank you, Miss Swan."

She curtsied again and said, "It is my pleasure, sir. I am glad you are happy."

He looked earnestly into her eyes and said, "I am…very happy since you have come to me. I believe you have been the beginning of many good things in my life."

Bella's cheeks turned ripe red at his compliment and she was barely able to get out a soft, "Thank ye, sir. I am very happy to be here, as well."

They stared at each other for a moment until Bella remembered, "Oh sir, there's something I must show you."

"Yes?"

"If ye'll wait, I shall retrieve it."

"Where is it?"

"Downstairs in a pantry."

"I shall come with you, then. Lead the way."

He followed Bella downstairs to the kitchen and she said, "Wait here where the light's good, sir. I'll bring them out."

She left him there and went into the pantry. His eyes kept drifting to the place in front of the hearth where he had seen her bathing that night. He found it suddenly hard to swallow.

"_This will not do. I must get in control of myself_," he thought in self-disgust.

Bella returned to where she had left him and sat a bowl down on the table. "Look at these, sir."

Peering inside, Edward could only see that they were some sort of food, "Mushrooms, aren't they?"

"Aye sir, but they be death cap mushrooms, I have been told. The day ye left for Alexandria, Mr. Jacob Black stopped in to pick up the slops. He trades our food scraps for good pig meat once in a while. Mrs. Cullen had the same arrangement with him during her lifetime. Sir, he found some of these in a scrap bucket that I had put out for him.

"There were many others that were just the same in the kitchen, cut up and drying on a rack when I came here. I didn't know what they were at the time, so I put them aside. Mr. Black says they are very poisonous, sir, and worse yet, some had been used in food for the house, I think. I found a dirtied serving dish half full of them when I was washing up that first day as though they had been taken from the table after folk had had their fill.

"I have no wish to alarm ye unnecessarily, sir. But mayhap the sudden flux that carried the household away was caused by such as these."

The color had drained out of Edward's face, "My family was poisoned?"

"I don't know, sir, but these were eaten in this house before I arrived. You and Mr. Whitlock didn't eat a mushroom dish, did ye?"

"Oh, no. Jasper and I ate our meals at taverns or at friend's homes. Neither one of us can cook."

Bella couldn't help but to think, "_Or clean neither, I'd say_."

However, she said only, "Mr. Black took the slops and most of the death caps and burnt them on a bonfire as a favor to me. He was rightly afraid to feed them to his pigs. I saved these remainders for you, thinking that you needed to see them and know about my suspicions."

"Yes, I certainly did. I will have to speak to the authorities about this and the doctor who treated my family during their illness."

"I will be willing to write down my testimony above my signature, sir, if ye wish."

"I am sure they'll just speak to you in person, Miss Swan. There's no need to write anything down."

"Sometimes these inquiries go weeks and months, sir."

"Yes, I understand that."

She lowered her gaze and her voice. "I mightn't be here when they'd have questions for me."

"Not be here? What do you mean?"

"If ye sell my indenture, I may be far away before they think to ask."

"Miss Swan, I have no intention of selling your papers. You are here with us and here is where you will stay until your term is over."

"Truly? Oh thank ye, sir. Thank ye." Bella's legs suddenly felt weak and so she leaned on the table for support.

"Are you well, Miss Swan?"

"Oh yes, sir. I am just that relieved. I was worried all week that ye'd send me away."

That thought gave Edward a sharp pain he was surprised to discover. "No, you need not have more worries about that, Miss Swan. You have more than proven your worth here. I am sure my sister will agree, especially after Jasper makes sure to take great delight in telling her how we were living when you found us. I am sure he will as soon as he finds the time."

Bella chuckled and they shared a smile.

"Oh, I thought of another thing, sir."

Edward lifted his brow, "Yes?"

"I had the nightsoilman come and deal with the privy for it was in desperate need of it. Truly, I'm that surprised the neighbors didn't complain. But when Mr. Uley came to do the job, he explained he was carrying a balance due to him from the last time he was here. I didn't believe we should put the chore off, and so I took the liberty of trading him two hams for his labors and have a receipt from him stating that all debts to him are settled."

She pulled a folded paper out from her apron pocket and handed it to Edward.

"You did excellently, Miss…" As he took the receipt, their fingers brushed causing a rush of electrifying sensations to course through his body.

This made him mortified. These feelings he had about the girl were unexpected and unacceptable. She was his servant. He was her master. He had a responsibility for her, a duty towards her which included keeping her safe and unmolested. He truly needed to get himself in line. And he needed to resist thinking about her as she was in the dark with the firelight playing across her lovely, wet skin.

Flustered, he remembered he was saying something. "Ah, er…very good, Miss Swan, and thank you again."

Edward turned to climb the stairs, thinking that it would be best to put some distance between this bewitching creature and himself. As he did, he passed the large kitchen windows that looked out onto the back yard and he paused.

"Miss Swan?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Please have a carpenter come in and fit these windows with shutters as soon as possible."

"_That's a strange request_," Bella thought.

"That's unusual, sir. Servant work rooms usually don't have that luxury."

"They're the only windows in the house that don't have them. It looks odd." His eyes darted away from her and he stuttered, "You…you'll see to it?"

"Yes, sir. Of course."

"I'd like it done as soon as possible, please." He turned and though he didn't quite dash up the stairs, he was close to doing it.

After Bella washed the dinner dishes and put soup on for supper that night, she asked Mrs. Crowley for the direction of a good carpenter. She easily found the location of the cabinet maker and made arrangements for him to install the shutters as Edward requested.

On her way home, she happened to pass Jasper in the street. He looked dazed and as though he was wandering in a fog.

"Mr. Whitlock, are ye well?" she asked, concerned to find him so out of sorts.

Startled, the dreamy look on his face faded a bit as he recognized Bella and he said, "Oh, Miss Swan. I am fine. The finest I've ever been." He sighed gustily.

"Are ye sure, Mr. Whitlock? Ye look all bemused."

Jasper smiled and said, "Oh Miss Swan, I am sure I do for I've just met an angel. It's bemused I am and bemused I shall stay." Then, he continued wandering down the street, lost in his dream.

* * *

"Swan, I am so surprised at how much you accomplished in just a week's time. I am in all admiration." Rosalie was sitting in the small parlor that abutted the music room across the hall from Edward's study. She was seated at an escritoire that was perfect for conducting household business.

"I had some help, miss. Angela Crowley who lives next door came over every day to assist me in my work. Together we were able to move quickly. It helped that she was very familiar with the arrangements in this house."

"I think I remember her. Didn't she serve as a maid to my cousins?"

"So she said, ma'am."

"She was beyond her years, I thought."

"She still is, miss."

"My father has given me leave to hire a personal servant while I am here. Do you think she'd do?"

"I think so, miss. She's well versed in household chores at least, and what she didn't know, she learned quickly. I am sure it was the same when she looked after your cousins."

"I was impressed with her. Could you ask her mother if we could take her on? I would need her help with the ordering of my clothing but I will wish her to do household chores, as well. In fact, she shall probably do more household chores than personal ones."

This turn of events pleased Bella very much. "I shall ask Mrs. Crowley as soon as I can, miss. However, I am sure they'll want to know if ye shall wish her to stop here or may she sleep at home? And also, I am sure they will inquire about her wages, as well?"

"Do you know how much my Aunt paid her?"

Bella's expression dimmed. "Aye, I do. Your aunt paid her a penny a week."

Rosalie looked horrified. "That's ridiculous. I would be embarrassed to offer that little. I believe my father pays Susan, the girl who looks after my mother and me when I am home, eight pounds per annum. Since Angela is a child still, I shall offer her six pounds a year and she shall sleep at home with her mother."

Bella beamed. It seemed that her new mistress was a generous and reasonable lady.

"Now, Swan, let us speak of your duties."

"_Here it comes_," Bella thought. "_I shall see if she'll be as reasonable with me."_

"First, I want to know with what other tasks you have experience. It is evident you know how to clean and order a household."

"Yes, miss. I learned much of that from my mother and then when I moved in with Mrs. Cope, my mistress, I took over her household duties. We lived above her shop in five rooms, about the size of one floor of this one but at the same time, I worked with her in the shop so I had to learn to be quick about my work."

"And her shop was that of a dressmaker?"

"Aye and we did tailoring, as well miss, but it was mostly fine work for ladies."

"How competent are you as a dressmaker?"

"I have no qualms about any needlework, miss. I've made everything from fancy dress to uniforms, from the bolt to the buttons for all sorts of people, of all sorts of stations. It was rare when someone was unhappy with my work, I am proud to say."

"Do you have any examples of what you've produced?"

"The dress I am wearing was of my own making and design. 'Twas a worry to make because the fabric was left over from a commission but there wasn't enough of the remainder to do naught more, we thought. My mistress allowed me to see what I could make of it and I was well pleased at how it turned out. I've also got a dress for Angela Crowley on the form downstairs in my chamber and if ye wish ye could inspect that and see something of mine in progress."

"Why are you making a dress for Miss Crowley?"

"In payment for all the work she did with me last week. Mr. Cullen said I could use the fabrics I found in the house to barter for goods and services and I did just that."

"That is a lot of payment for a week's work."

"It didn't cost the master a penny that he'd miss, and my time he has already bought." Bella shrugged, hoping Miss Cullen would see her point. She went on, "I also used my skill to replaced the soiled mattresses that I had no hope of refreshing."

"How so?"

"Mrs. Cullen had a full bolt of ticking put by so I made new cases and then bartered with the poultry woman for the down to fill them."

"You made her a dress?"

"No, miss. I made over a dress she had from her mother but didn't come near to fitting her. It fits her fine now. She was well pleased with the trade."

"How very industrious you were. Please step closer so I may study your dress, if you don't mind."

Bella walked around to the other side of the desk so that Rose could examine her handiwork. The young woman took her time, studying the seaming and the cut. After asking permission, she lifted the hem to look at what sort of stitches were used and was surprised to see how carefully the gown was put together and how the hem was invisible from the right side.

"This is very nice, Swan. How long did it take you to make?"

"From start to finish? Plotting out the design, cutting the fabric and the sewing? Or just the sewing?"

"The whole enterprise."

"I worked each night after supper. I suppose I had it completed in about five days."

"That was quickly done!"

"One learns to be quick when 'tis your livelihood. The more one can accomplish, the more one prospers. Besides, customers don't like to wait overlong."

Rosalie smiled. "I wish you to help me with my wardrobe, then."

"It will be my delight, miss. Your aunt had some lovely fabrics put by. They were stored in the cupboard in the upstairs hallway but I moved them below stairs. I felt, I may as well as I would probably be the one doing the sewing of them if I stayed."

Nodding in agreement, Rosalie went on, "We are in mourning at the moment for our family, so it shall be a while before I will be wanting brighter clothes but perhaps we can start some in the meanwhile. How are your cooking skills?"

"Plain fare, I be afraid. Nothing too fancy."

"Can you follow recipes?"

"It depends on the recipe. Some be clear as glass and some be as murky as a farm pond."

Rosalie laughed, "I've often thought the same. I have a raft of recipes I've brought from home. I think they are more glass-like than murky. I enjoy cooking so I shall help with that chore. I hope you will share the recipe for the cake you served today. It was quite delicious."

"Most certainly, miss. 'Twas just a pound cake. I shall show you how to bake it the next you have a hankering for such."

"You will also be responsible for the supervision of the maid in cleaning the house and keeping it tidy.

"I take breakfast in my chamber but the gentlemen will eat that meal in the dining room. I would like that to be your responsibility. You will serve us as we call upon you but your tasks won't be extraordinary. You and I shall discuss the day's duties here each morning when I come down after breakfast. I would like for Angela Crowley to start tomorrow if she can. She should be here by eight of the clock."

"Yes, miss. And thank ye, miss."

Rosalie smiled serenely as Bella left the room. If she could keep the girl busy, that should put plenty of space between Edward and her, thus avoiding an indelicate situation. Giving Bella the responsibility of the extra maid would also provide an additional barrier to any untoward behavior, she hoped. Rosalie was well satisfied with her accomplishments thus far.

Bella was passing through the hall to return downstairs to the kitchen when there was a knock at the front door. Straightening her apron and cap, she went to the door to greet the visitor. She was delighted to see a familiar smiling face when she opened it.

"Why Mr. McCarty, what a pleasure it is to see you again."

His dimpled grin and sparkling blue eyes seemed to reflect his own delight when a movement behind Bella caught his attention. He gasped in wonder as he stared beyond her into the hall. Wondering what he was gazing at, Bella turned to see Rosalie standing in the sitting room doorway with her hand clasped to her heart and a growing blush staining her cheeks.

Bella quickly sized up the situation, opened the door wide and said in a clear voice, "Mr. Emmett McCarty is calling, Miss Cullen."

**AN:**

**Portmanteau = basically these are suitcases.**

**Rosalie calls Bella "Swan." Servants were frequently referred to by their last names, with no honorific. Notice that Edward always calls her "Miss Swan." Edward sees her as someone other than a servant, hence the formality. Jasper is soon going to be coming up with a nickname for her. Can you guess what it is? And yes, "Hill!" was a shout out to the A&E version of P&P, although I believe Esme's dulcet voice would never screech like a certain Mrs. Bennett's.**

**Also, this is important to understand: in the colonies, if you emigrated from England you were pretty much in the upper class. I know that sounds weird, but follow me here. The colonials paid more attention to land of origin (race) than social class. After all, most everyone in the colonies either was themselves or was the near descendent of poor steerage class immigrants who became the colony's tradesmen, merchants, farmers, and laborers. There wasn't quite the prohibition of marrying between 'classes' because they all were from the same class basically, but it is true a lot of people married for wealth. Some of England's nobility did come to the colonies as governors and King's representatives but they really kept to themselves. **_**They**_** were the ones who paid attention to class. Esme's concern about Bella is the fact she's young and pretty and she's living in the same house with her son and it is apparent that said son is taken with her. They could be playing with fire and she knows it. Lurid romances aside, it was definitely not the thing to have shenanigans with the help. It was considered a dereliction of duty and dishonorable behavior. I hope you caught on to the fact that Edward is an honorable gentleman. **

**You may be noticing Bella's word choice is changing. New place, new customs.**

**Epergne – a big honking, table centerpiece usually containing flowers and/or fruit.**

**Escritoire – a very elegant writing desk for ladies.**

**Fancy dress – think Marie Antoinette, ball gowns and the like. You think Lady Gaga has weird hairdos, check out the 1770s-1800s. The styles were extreme at times in those days. Men wore fancy dress, too but that was silk breeches and hose and finely embroidered waist coats with velvet frock coats, lacey stocks and powered George Washington wigs. They had pony tails. They called them queues, which in England means what we in the US call a line. Both countries stand in them, except in NYC where you stand **_**on**_** them.**

**Mourning customs. When someone died, the immediate family dressds only in black for a year. There can be no celebrations, like weddings and the like. After a year, the ladies can move to wearing grey or purple colors for six months. Aunt Abby and the girls weren't immediate family to Edward and Rosalie but out of respect, especially since Edward's the heir, Edward and his sister are wearing black and probably will for six months. Jasper is wearing a black arm band, since he is living in the house where the family has had a loss. Some widows never stopped mourning their husbands and wore black until they died themselves. If they started wearing colors, that meant they were open to considering their candidates for their next husband. considering the mortality rates in those days, I am surprised people ever stopped mourning.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 11: Machinations**

* * *

When Emmett finally remembered his manners enough to stop gawping at Rosalie, he pulled off his tricorn, bowed deeply and said, "Good afternoon, Miss Cullen." For such a large man, he was remarkably graceful.

Rosalie regained her composure as well and curtsied. "Good day, Mr. McCarty. Won't you come into the sitting room?" Rosalie was now every bit the lady. She waved her hand through the doorway then swept back into the parlor.

The young man obediently followed as Bella took his hat and shut the front door. Smiling, she remembered what Emmett had told her about his old feelings for Miss Cullen and she wondered if that fire was still aflame. Setting his hat on a side table, she demurely stepped into the room behind Emmett and waited for Rosalie's instructions.

Indicating one of the chairs across from her, Rosalie said, "Please do sit down, Mr. McCarty. This is an unexpected pleasure, sir."

Emmett awkwardly took a seat on a spindly-legged chair that was really designed to suit a lady rather than a man in the prime of life. He smiled warmly at Rosalie, though, and said, "It is for me as well, Miss Cullen. I did not know you were in Annapolis."

"Didn't you?" Rose's surprise made her less diplomatic than she normally was.

"I was stopping here to check on my former passenger and to see that she was settling in town well."

"Your former passenger?" Rosalie herself was at sea.

"Yes. Miss Swan here took passage on _The Patience_ from Portsmouth last month. We became friends on the journey."

Rosalie shot a sharp look at Bella before continuing, "This is unusual, isn't it, sir? You don't check on all your former passengers after a voyage, do you?"

"That's very true, but to be completely honest, Miss Swan's well being was a special charge given me by one of my old captain's widows. I was to see to her safety on board and that she was kindly settled in her new home."

"Well then, shall I leave you two to converse in private?" Rosalie's face was flushed and she suddenly rose to leave. Emmett immediately stood as well.

Bella could see the direction of Rosalie's thoughts and so spoke up, "Oh no, miss. There's no reason for that. Mr. McCarty can see I am now well and safely settled. He has done his duty and can report to our mutual friend that his burden has been discharged. Do ye wish me to fetch refreshments, miss?"

Still standing, Rose thought a moment then said, "Actually, Mr. McCarty, 'tis but a bit before supper. Would you care to join us? My brother would be happy to be reacquainted with you and I would so enjoy introducing you to a dear friend, Mr. Jasper Whitlock."

"Why thank you, miss. I would enjoy that, if you are sure t'would be no burden to you."

"Of course not, we shall enjoy your company. We have much to catch up upon, don't we?"

"That we do, but I must send a message to my mother to inform her of my plans. She will be expecting me, else."

"Certainly, Mr. McCarty." Turning to Bella she said, "Swan, please see that Mr. McCarty's note gets delivered and prepare a place for him at the table. Inform my brother that we have company."

"Yes, miss." Bella bobbed a curtsey and left to seek out her master. She thought he was in his study. He had come in from doing some business about an hour before. She gingerly knocked on the paneled door.

"Yes?"

When she entered the room she saw that Jasper was slouching in one of the arm chairs and Edward was reading the other. Jasper didn't appear to be doing much except lolling with his legs stretched out, his arms hanging over the sides of the chair, and his head thrown back. Curiously, he had the most blissful expression on his face.

Edward was watching as she crossed the room. He was barely able to stifle the sigh she inspired but Bella only noticed his piercing stare. "_Perhaps I have a smut on my nose_," she thought. It took all her will power not to rub it as he gazed at her. She curtsied and said, "Miss Rosalie wishes you to know that a caller has come and she invites ye to join her in the sitting room."

"A caller? Whom?" Like Rosalie, Edward was surprised. They'd only just got into town a few hours before.

"Mr. Emmett McCarty, sir."

"Ah. Thank you Miss Swan. We shall go through."

She curtsied again and left. As she passed back through the hallway, she checked in the mirror, trying to see what Mr. Cullen had been staring at so hard but she couldn't see anything out of place. So strange.

She went down to the kitchen to put the final touches on supper. As she was stirring cream into the soup, she was surprised when Emmett came down the stairs.

"Ah, there you are, Miss Swan. Here is the note for my mother. I hate to trouble you to deliver it."

"Oh, no worries on that, Mr. McCarty. I was just going to step next door and see if I could bribe Tyler Crowley with a bit of cake to deliver it for me." She held her hand out for the letter but Emmett hesitated to give it to her.

"I wanted to talk with you for a moment about something else before you set off."

"Talk with me? What about?"

"Remember I told you I was going to meet with my captain in Philadelphia this past week?"

"Aye, sir."

"When I arrived at his house, I found him in a passion."

"A passion? Why?"

"It seems that one of our crew had been spending the voyages interfering with women passengers when he had the opportunity. You remember Mr. James?"

Bella frowned, remembering the day she saw a disheveled Lauren Mallory leave a dark nook on the ship with James following behind her. She was trying to forget about the day he had cornered herself. "I do remember Mr. James. He was the one you persuaded to unhand me when I was running an errand for Mr. Washington."

"It seemed that he compromised one of the German passengers. There was a great hue and cry when the ship docked in Philadelphia because the girl refused to go with her people. She wanted to stay with Mr. James, who didn't want a thing to do with her once they had reached port. The German representative was up in arms and demanded restitution. As the argument was waging, Captain Laurent received a letter through express delivery. It was from the farmer who had paid for the indentures of a half dozen demanding some of his investment back from the captain. One of his indentured servants showed up too ill to work. It's planting season and he was counting on every hand to put to it.

"Miss Swan, I regret having to speak this way in front of a lady but the reason the girl can't work is because she is with child and when questioned, she revealed that one of the ship's crew was responsible."

"Mr. James?"

"Aye, the same." Emmett shook his head in disgust. "He had some sort of connection to the captain's wife and that was why he was tolerated but this was too much and so captain dismissed him from the crew. I would be surprised if he could find a ship this side of the Atlantic that would take him on again. Captain Laurent is well rid of him, I'd say."

Bella nodded in agreement.

He hesitated before he went on. "Er, miss, I would be negligent in my duty to you if I didn't ask if he importuned upon you anymore than I knew?"

"Not more than ye witnessed yourself. Many's the time I blessed you for saving me from his clutches. He is an evil man."

"Aye, that he is and I am quite relieved he didn't importune upon you more. I'd whip the skin from his bones, if he did."

Bella placed a hand on Emmett's arm and said, "Mr. McCarty, you are a good friend. Thank you for your care and concern."

He smiled warmly at her. "'Tis my pleasure, miss. You are a fine woman and worth it."

She was red as beetroot at his compliment, she was sure. "Go on with ye, sir."

He laughed, "I am sure you have much to do before supper, so I shall." Grinning, he disappeared back up the stairs.

She took his note over to Mr. Banner's and found Tyler begging his mother to lick the bowl of the cake she was baking.

"Good eve, Mrs. Crowley."

"Hello lass, your day was busy, I saw."

"Yes. My master has returned with his sister as hostess. All is very well." Bella was smiling, happily remembering how Mr. Cullen assured her that he was keeping her. Her heart was soaring at the thought.

"Mrs. Crowley, I have a task for Tyler if ye would."

"Oh never a problem, lass. Gets him out from underfoot, it does."

Tyler looked eagerly at Bella. "Lad, I've brought you a slice of cake if ye will deliver this note to Emmett McCarty's mother, eh? Do ye know where she lives?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll take it straight away."

"Good, lad. I'll have that slice of cake here for you when you get back." Bella grinned as she watched him race off.

"That boy would do it without the treat, lass," Mrs. Crowley said.

"I know he would but every good boy deserves a favor now and again. I have something else to ask of ye, ma'am. Miss Cullen would like to employ Angela as a servant next door. She would help Miss with her clothes and help me with the housework for six pounds per year but she can come home each night and stop with ye. Is this something you'd agree to?"

Mrs. Crowley's eyes grew big, "Aye, most certainly!"

They spent a few moments discussing the details before Bella ran back to the house to finish putting supper on the table. When she had everything prepared in the dining room, she went to the sitting room and announced, "Supper is served."

Emmett offered his arm to Rosalie and the couple led the others across the hall into the dining room. Jasper appeared distracted as he took his seat. He certainly wasn't his usual talkative self.

Bella served the first course as Edward watched his friend gazing dreamily into the ether hardly bothering to touch the dish he was given, "Jasper, are you in need of a tonic? You seem off kilter."

"Do I? That's not surprising. I feel topsy-turvy."

Rosalie looked to see if Emmett was watching, then turned to Jasper and said coquettishly, "Mr. Whitlock, I think you've never looked better."

Jasper was in such a daze that he simply returned Rosalie's compliment with a beatific smile without really paying attention to her words or the motive behind them.

Emmett watched this interchange without a flicker of distress but he immediately turned to Bella who was filling his wine glass and said, "Miss Swan, it seems to me that Annapolis has been good for you. You are blooming."

Bella paused in astonishment at the man's words. His comment was out of place and unlike him. She smiled weakly and mumbled, "Thank you, sir." She looked at Edward the next moment to find him scowling at Emmett. She was beginning to think these people were mad. More's the pity of it for they had seemed so reasonable until this point.

Edward leaned back in his chair and asked Emmett, "How do you know my Miss Swan?"

Before Emmett could answer, Rosalie said with a smile on her face but a glint in her eye, "It seems that our Swan was a 'special' passenger on Mr. McCarty's last voyage where they became 'fast friends,' brother, and you know what they say about shipboard friendships."

Jasper took this moment to awaken from his day-dreamy state, "The saying isn't about shipboard friendships, Miss Rosalie, 'tis about shipboard romances."

Rosalie's laugh was brittle. "We should know that, shouldn't we? After all, we just disembarked from a voyage this morning, didn't we Mr. Whitlock?"

Jasper finally twigged to the idea that he had no clue as to what in the world Rosalie was referring and looked at her with a puzzled frown. He wasn't alone in his expression. Edward was frowning, too. Rosalie was speaking as though Jasper was her _chéri._ What had gotten in to her? Jasper was as likely to be her sweetheart as he was. He would speak with her about this later.

Emmett was also frowning but instead of staring at Rosalie as Edward and Jasper were doing, he was staring at Jasper. "The journey from Alexandria to Annapolis is mere hours, sir. How did you find the time?"

"Would anyone care for more soup?" Bella's plea was desperate. She had no idea what was happening in the dining room that turned four relatively sane people into raving lunatics, but perhaps more soup would distract them.

Thankfully, her quiet question was enough to remind everyone of their manners. The conversation turned down easier paths and the rest of the meal went smoothly.

It was a long evening, made to seem longer by the unspoken tension between Emmett and Rosalie and the confusion their silent confrontation cast upon the rest of the table. After supper, Bella hurriedly washed the dishes and organized the hot water ewers for the house's evening ablutions. She turned down their beds, stirred the bedroom fires and wrapped thick cloths around the ewers so they would stay hot and in readiness for each bedroom's occupant. It wasn't cold enough to make bed warming pans necessary. The winter would see her having to toast the linens but this spring weather was fairly mild.

Rosalie had gone up to bed first followed by Jasper. Bella decided to wait until Edward left for his own bed before she would finish the main floor rooms but that thought was foiled when the man opened the study door and said, "Miss Swan, I would speak with you for a moment before you retire."

Surprised, she had no idea what Edward would want with her so she entered his sanctum a little hesitantly. He was standing in front of the fireplace and as Bella approached he indicated that she sit in the wing chair opposite him.

She nervously perched on the edge of the chair and folded her hands in her lap waiting for him to speak. He sat in his own chair and studied her in the firelight. She was beautiful; there was no doubt in his mind. He was disturbed at first when Emmett McCarty started flirting with her. Not because she was his servant as much as because the thought of her being receptive to such advances made him unhappy. The fact he didn't know as much as Emmett did about her disturbed him even more. He felt it was within his rights as her master to find out.

"I was surprised, Miss Swan, that you had the acquaintanceship of Mr. McCarty."

"I did, sir. As a boy he sailed with the husband of one of my previous mistress' customers. When I knew I would be going asea, I visited that lady to learn of the perils of a voyage and thus prepare myself. It was happenstance that she knew Mr. McCarty. She wrote a letter of introduction and as a favor to her, that gentleman saw to me on my journey. He is being overly kind to check in on me now."

"Hmmmph. I know of Mr. McCarty from a visit I made to Annapolis last year. He seems an upstanding man."

"From the limited dealings I have had with him, sir, I would say the same."

It seemed to Edward that Bella did not display any particular preference to Mr. McCarty so he would let that be for now. "So, you are from Portsmouth, England?"

"I lived in that city, sir, for the past ten years and some but I am actually from a village outside of Portsmouth. My father farmed there."

"What was the name of the village?"

Bella smiled fondly, "The name has a story behind it. The main highway to London runs through it and along that part of the road, there were two other roads that intersected with it. Little hamlets sprung up at these crossings and over time, they grew together to form one village. The hamlets were known simply as Upper Fork and Lower Fork but now they are just called Forks."

Edward chuckled, "I am sure there are people who ask in jest where the knives and spoons are."

"More times than you'd imagine, sir."

"Why did you leave the village?"

"A fever struck my mother and father and took them off. I was ill as well but recovered. I was too young to run the farm for the local landowner, so my godmother, Mrs. Cope, who lived in Portsmouth, took me in. She had a seamstress shop there and taught me her trade."

"That sounds like a good situation, miss. Why did you give it up?"

Bella couldn't help the flicker of sadness that crossed her features at his question, "It seemed that Mrs. Cope's customers were negligent in payment and it put her in arrears to her creditors. She hadn't the money to pay and so she was sent to debtor's prison, her shop was boarded up and I was not only out of a position but a home as well."

"Had you any correspondence with my aunt before embarking for Maryland?"

"Oh, no sir. I had no real knowledge of the lady. She used the offices of an agent to find such as me. It was chance that I came upon the man in the market square the day I lost my home. But I am sorry for the loss of the lady and her daughters. I am sure it was quite a blow."

"It was very tragic but I didn't have the honor of being much attached to the ladies. In fact, last summer was the first I ever met them."

They quietly regarded each other for a bit, then Edward asked, "Do you miss seamstressing?"

Bella chuckled. "I've ne'er left off doing it. On the ship I helped the sail-maker and here I have used my skills to barter for needed items about the house as I told your kind sister. Plus, that lady herself has suggested I could help with her wardrobe in the future."

"That's not obligatory, miss. Your job is as housekeeper, not dresser for my sister."

"Sir, I would enjoy helping her. She's a beautiful lady and it inspires my spirit to be able to dress her in a style of my creation."

He nodded, "You will do it only if it pleases you. I will make sure my sister knows this."

"But it does please me, sir. You don't have to mention it to her, truly. I'd be concerned she then wouldn't ask me to do what I would very well enjoy."

"As long as you're sure, Miss Swan. I will leave it in your hands."

"Thank you, sir."

"Your servitude is for three years. What plans have you after that time?"

"I believe my indenture states that I will be given a set of new clothing and some money so that I can start out on my own."

"It does. What would you wish to do?"

"I can imagine having a snug little shop of my own in the town here. Annapolis is a nice place and from what I can see, there isn't an overabundance of tailoring and clothing enterprises about. Mayhaps I'd do well here."

Edward nodded. "Mayhaps you shall, Miss Swan. I would make sure you got a good start if that is what you'd choose at the time. Also, I wanted to tell you that I found the indenture papers that my aunt had concerning you. She spent six pounds for your passage in exchange for three years indenture. I wanted to tell you that you could buy back your indenture at anytime and thus gain your freedom. I will stand you in good stead for your service to me and my family and give you the monetary and clothing severance, even in that case."

Bella was astonished. She never dreamed that she could buy her way out of servitude and the fact that he offered it to her was beyond generous, but it didn't matter. "You are so kind, Mr. Cullen, more kind than I deserve and that's a fact, but it makes no difference. I haven't a hope of having that kind of money now or in the future. Besides, I am content with my position in your household."

"I am glad to hear it." He studied her a moment longer, then asked, "Were you able to find a carpenter for the shutters below stairs?"

"Aye, sir. I asked Mrs. Crowley for the direction of a good carpenter. He will be here tomorrow and install them before noon."

"Very good. And you were able to secure the services of Angela Crowley, as well?"

"I was. She will start tomorrow. Oh, and there is another thing…" Bella reached into her pocket and removed a few coins. "These are what were left from the ordering of the foodstuffs, sir. Miss Cullen suggested I return it to you when I told her of it." She arose to hand him the money.

Out of courtesy, he rose too and when she placed the coins in his hand she met his eyes and once again was struck to the heart by his handsome countenance. His eyes looked intently into hers and the firelight flickered across his smooth brow, and fine features. She knew it was impertinent, but she couldn't resist staring back at him. Their proximity caused her heart to leap as though it would pound out of her chest and she was sure her color was as high as it ever could be. Yet, she couldn't look away.

He suddenly dropped his hand from hers and turned to stare at the fire. "Thank you, Miss Swan. You have proven to be a treasure."

She was so inundated with her alien feelings that she could do no more than stutter her goodnight and she found herself in her own bedchamber a minute later without really remembering how she got there.

Several hours later, she woke from a sound sleep and remembered that she hadn't gone back upstairs to close the study's shutters and bank its fire. It would take time to relight it in the morning if the coals were allowed to go out, more time than she had. So clambering out of bed, she lit a candle and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. She quietly padded upstairs and into the study and was surprised to see Edward asleep in one of the wing-backed chairs next to the dying fire, a book held loosely on his lap. He must have fallen asleep while reading.

He was going to have a terrible crick in his neck the next morning if he stayed like that, so she gently shook him awake.

"Mr. Cullen, sir. Mr. Cullen, 'tis time to go up to bed. You'll get a chill sleeping here."

He blinked his eyes to find his that his dream had come to life. "Miss Swan?" he asked sleepily.

"Go up to bed, sir. 'Tis late." She was kneeling in front of him and in the candlelight she appeared every bit as an angel to him.

"…_you are indeed a price above rubies…I do safely trust in you…you shall do me good all the days of my life_…" he said as though he was still dreaming. He sighed deeply as he stared down at her and blinked rapidly as he woke up more fully. He blushed when he realized he wasn't dreaming but she was there in the flesh and listening to his Biblical ramblings.

But Bella's smile was soft as she said, "I think, sir, that we shall be good for each other."

* * *

James James was relieved that he was at last able to get out of the rain that had begun sometime before midnight. He was soaked through and miserable. He had climbed into a hayloft whose owner had no idea an interloper was using it as a make-shift shelter. Since it was spring, there wasn't much hay left but there was enough for him to burrow down into and try to stop shaking with cold.

He was in a very bad way, having lost his position on _The Patience_ and now had no one to speak for him in gaining another. Damn Captain Laurent and his puritanical ways. Damn the women for speaking against him. He was seething with anger that his life should be in such disarray all because of the "supposed" congress he had had with those harlots. What else were they good for but for a shove and tickle, damn them to hell. He would fix them, every one of them whom he had done, and a few he hadn't but should have. They would pay for the straights he found himself.

Oh, yes. They would pay.

**AN **

** Bella does mention that Tyler deserved his slice of cake because Every Good Boy Deserves a Favor. This was mnemonic device piano teachers of long ago used to teach students the lines on the treble clef: EGBDF. (The spaces were FACE. Base clef was -lines, Good Boys Do Fine Always and spaces- All Cows Eat Grass. I was seven when I was taught this and took it hard that the girls were left out.) There's a variety to the EGBDF mnemonic. Some were taught Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge and some were taught Every Good Boy Does Fine. And some were taught that Elvis did something but I can't remember it. I still think the girls were given a bum rap.**

**Smut – back before our society was hypersexualized to the exclusion of just about everything else, smut referred to a small smudge of dirt, like one would have on ones face if one dug about in hearths all day long.**

_**Chéri**_** – Sweetheart in French**

**I am very apologetic about the name of Bella's hometown in England but I couldn't resist. As far as Google knows, there isn't a Forks village in England.**

**Edward was paraphrasing from Proverbs but he didn't realize it until he fully woke up. It was chapter 31 and referred to the value of a WIFE! What is the boy thinking?**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Afternoon Visits**

* * *

"No, Angela, you don't put the chamber pots in the dumbwaiter." Bella's stomach turned at the thought.

"But Miss, 'tis easier than carrying them on the stairs."

"My dear, ye don't put what comes _out_ of one end in the same place ye put what goes _in _t'other."

Angela squeaked with horror as she made out what Bella was saying. "I shall just take this down, then."

Bella smiled and went back to her task. She was tidying Jasper's room and was just about finished with it. She banked the fire, then followed Angela down to the privy to clean out Jasper's rumble-cup.

She was saving Edward's room to clean for last. When she finally entered her master's chamber, she paused to look around and sigh.

She had come earlier in the day to awaken him and open the shutters and drapes. He had asked for a bath, so she and Angela had brought up the hip bath and ewers of hot and cold water from the kitchen. They had set the bath in front of his fire as he'd sat in a chair and sipped his coffee. She'd felt his eyes following her as she worked, and so she'd made sure to be as neat as she could be about it.

"That's all, sir," she had said when she was done. Her smile had been soft when she looked up at him and the expression on his face had fair taken her breath away. There had been something about how his morning beard shadowed his face and how his hair had been in riotous disorder; the intensity of his gaze had warmed her to her very bones. She had left his room quickly after that. Then there was breakfast and she still had felt his gentle eyes watch her as she moved. Finally, he left for his study and she went on with her chores, first tidying the dining room as Angela went down to wash the dishes.

Miss Cullen had rung for Angela soon after they'd begun Jasper's chamber and that left Bella to work alone on the gents' rooms.

The hip bath was still in front of the hearth and so she went to empty it only to see it was already empty. Had Angela been in here? No, she couldn't have been. The girl hadn't the time and now she was with Rosalie. Edward must have done it.

She wiped out the tub and took it to the hall cupboard, thinking to keep it there so she wouldn't have to lug it up and down the stairs when it was needed. There was still the full immersion bath in the kitchen pantry that she could use herself when needed. It was too large for her to carry up and down stairs. Therefore, if any of the house's residents wanted that sort of bath, they'd just have to come down to the kitchen.

Returning to Edward's chamber, she fluffed his mattress, straightened the sheets¸ and tenderly smoothed the indentation of his head from his pillow. She leaned closer and inhaled deeply catching the faint scent of bay rum. She smiled while she tucked in the blanket and caressed the coverlet as it fell across the bed and over the side of the feather mattress. Her mind wandered as she thought about how she had found him sleeping in the chair the night before. It warmed her heart to remember the words he had spoken.

Finally, she realized she was actually mooning over Edward Cullen. _Mooning_? What an idiotic notion. She was his servant and well beneath him in so many ways. Was she simply taken by his noble looks and handsome profile? But he seemed to be a good sort of person and after the surprise and discomfort of her intrusion upon his household, he had been more than generous. He had been kind, even. Not many masters would ask a servant of their origins or their opinions.

She had never felt so taken with a man. She had never wanted to be before. It wasn't in her plans to have a man in her life. She had seen how they complicated matters. She was lucky to have a manner to make an honest living without having to rely upon one. Mrs. Cope had been married very briefly to a sailor but he had been lost at sea early in their marriage and the lady had been content to look after herself afterwards, at least until the end. Bella had every ambition to do as her mentor had—but without falling into debt.

She needed to stop thinking of him, truly. Her fascination with him was certain to be heart breaking and reputation destroying sooner or later and then where would she be?

She started to dust the bedroom furnishings and sang softly as she did, hoping the tune would keep her mind from going down dangerous avenues. The last thing she did in his room was to pull the chamber pot out from under his bed but it didn't seem like it had been used. Puzzled, she lifted the lid and looked inside. It was clean as a spring rain.

She was touched to her soul. He was handsome, he was kind and he was courteous as well. When nature called him, he went to the privy instead of adding to her labor. She shoved the pot back under the bed and giggled. Seems Mr. Cullen found the sure way to a housemaid's heart.

* * *

"Rosalie, what was that display about at suppertime last eve?" Edward had tracked his sister down in the music room and was glad to find her alone.

"You are ever to the point, brother. Of what are you speaking precisely?" Rosalie continued organizing the sheets of music she had brought with her from Alexandria.

Edward reached over and pulled the music from her hands to get her attention, "That farce you enacted at table last night when you fawned over Jasper as though you were his inamorata. You unhappily surprised the poor fellow with your behavior and we all know there is nothing to what you implied. So, explain yourself. 'Twas very unlike you."

The young woman sniffed and walked over to the pianoforte that had just been set up and ran her hand over its polished surface. She was an accomplished musician and she was desperate to play. Music had always been her panacea when she was upset and for some reason, she was very unsettled today.

"Did you not think it strange that Mr. McCarty came calling on a servant?" was all she said.

Edward paused and then looked knowingly at his sister. "Oh, I understand now. You are jealous of the common courtesy he was showing a former charge of his."

She wheeled around in surprise, "Jealous? I am not jealous. I was simply surprised that he would bother."

"It was all explained last night to my satisfaction."

"But he commented favorably upon her appearance while she was serving."

"Only after you similarly made over Jasper. I believe it was a feint, dear Rosalie." Edward was amused at his sister's evident discomposure.

"A feint? What do you mean?"

Edward laughed. "He used Miss Swan as a means to an end. His true object was to bait you, if I am not mistaken."

"How so?"

"How so?" He couldn't help his amusement. His normally unruffled sister was definitely sailing upon choppy seas.

"They do say, Rosalie, that all is fair in love and war. This poses the question for you, though: is this love or is this war?"And with that he took his leave allowing her to puzzle that out on her own.

* * *

There was a knock on the door and when Bella answered it, she was surprised to find a young boy there with a posy of flowers clutched in his hand.

"Flowers for Miss Cullen," he said, thrusting the bunch at her.

Bella took them and thanked the boy, then went upstairs to where Miss Cullen was getting ready for dinner. She tapped on her door and went in, "Flowers for ye, miss."

Bella handed the small bouquet to a surprised Rosalie who was sitting at her dressing table arranging her hair, "Shall I get something to put them in?" Bella asked.

"Yes, please." Rosalie took the card that was attached and opened it. All that was written was Emmett McCarty's signature.

The young woman's wonder turned to delight as she regarded the daffodils tied with a yellow ribbon. She carefully arranged them in the vase Bella had brought her, a smile never leaving her lips.

"Where would you like me to place them, miss?" Bella asked.

Grinning, Rosalie answered, "I think on the table next to my bed and I do believe I shall wear this yellow ribbon that bound them in my hair today." Looking into her mirror, she set about to weave it through her golden locks.

Bella was smiling as she returned to the dining room. It seemed that Mr. McCarty was making his intentions known and the object of his desire was receptive to them. Now that Aunt Cullen was no longer present to make her objections, perhaps the course of true love would run smooth.

Angela soon joined her as they readied the room for dinner. "'Twas a nice flower Miss got this day."

"Aye, they were."

"Miss seems well pleased."

"She does that. 'Tis no wonder."

"No?"

"Do ye not know the language of flowers? Whole conversations can take place without a word spoken."

"So Mr. McCarty was speaking to Miss Cullen?"

"That he was."

"What did he say?"

"The daffodil means new beginnings. The yellow, especially the yellow ribbon, means eternal love."

Angela gasped. "That's pretty much a declaration, isn't it?"

"Perhaps but nothing can be said until Miss Cullen's family is first prevailed upon."

"Surely Mr. Cullen would like that? The McCarty's are a very good family."

"I was thinking more of Miss Cullen's parents than her brother. Until their approval is given, nothing can be said—with words that is. So, we shall see what will come of this but 'tis best not to remark more about it. It isn't any of our business, is it?"

"No, miss."

"Well all is finished here. Let us go down to get the food ready."

As he had promised, the carpenter had spent only a few hours that morning installing the interior shutters on the kitchen windows and they looked a treat. Bella did enjoy the thought that she could close them in the evening. Privacy was a rare thing in a servant's life. It was so thoughtful of Edward to insist upon it.

Dinner was pleasant. Edward and Rosalie were at table alone, Jasper having sent word that he was eating elsewhere this day. Bella was quietly showing Angela how to serve at table. She hoped one day Angela could take over this duty and leave her free to take care of things below stairs during the meal. Miss Cullen was amenable to that suggestion.

As Rosalie was sipping her tea at the end of dinner, she said, "Edward, we are sure to expect callers this afternoon. I am certain word has gone out that we are here. Do you think you'll be about or should I expect to entertain alone?"

"I am actually expecting a caller myself, so I shall be here."

"That's well, then. Swan, this afternoon you were planning to work on the garden?"

"Yes, miss."

"Then Angela can serve us and answer the door."

"Yes, miss." Bella smiled at Angela, proud that the Cullens felt confident in the girl's ability.

Edward looked down at his plate surprisingly disappointed. He enjoyed seeing Bella during the day but perhaps it was better they kept their distance. He knew it was for the best. He still felt dissatisfied.

After dinner was seen to, Bella reviewed with Angela what she should do when callers came, then went downstairs to work in the garden. She took a large pinafore and put it on to keep her dress and apron clean while she worked in the dirt. She focused first on the kitchen garden, worked the soil then took some mulch that had been decaying behind the shed and started blending it into the rich loam.

As was usual, she sang as she worked for the pure joy of being outside on a mild spring day and having good work to lay her hands to. She was turning over the soil once again and had just finished singing "_When I was a Fair Maid"_ when applause erupted from behind her. Startled, she swung around to see the broad smile and merry face of Jacob Black standing at the garden gate. He had come for whatever scraps she might have for him.

"Why, Mr. Black, I didn't realize I had an audience."

"'Twas pure pleasure to hear you sing, miss. The loveliest I've ever heard and that's the truth, though the words were a bit comical."

She laughed, "Yes. It was an old song about a young maid who went to sea. 'Tis a relic from living in a seafaring town, I am afraid. As an inhabitant, ye couldn't avoid them."

Jacob opened the gate and passed through, "I wouldn't wish to, miss. We have our share of chanteys here in Annapolis, as well."

"I suppose you do, sir. I've heard a few since I arrived. I am sure they'll start wearing off on me before long. I've got a bucket of scraps for you by the doorway. I can vouch for all of them this time."

"Oh, not at all a problem, miss. I see you're getting your garden ready. What do you hope to plant this year?"

"Mrs. Cullen had many seeds in her store room, so I thought I'd grow a little of this and that. I am going to put the peas in today. 'Tis almost too late for the planting."

"They'll do well. You've missed the frosts most likely although the weather here isn't as predictable as in England."

"Yes. It's predictable back home that's for certain. 'Tis rainy mostly, on that you can count. But I did grow good peas there."

"If you should ever need vegetables, we grow them as well as pigs, as I've told you. I'd be happy to give you some."

"Oh, Mr. Black, you're too generous. Don't you raise them to sell?"

"We do, but I never mind sharing with a pretty lass."

Bella felt her color rise and she stuttered out a, "Don't let me be a trouble to ye, sir."

"I promise, 'tis no trouble to me but a pleasure." He grinned again, "But I must get on. I have many stops to make before turning for home. I will see you soon, Miss Swan."

Bella curtsied as the man dumped her bucket of scraps into his cart, then returned it to her. "Blessings on you, miss." And with a tip of his hat he was gone. Bella smiled and waved as he drove off, then returned to the garden to plant her peas.

* * *

Edward's hand clutched the drape of his sister's sitting room as he watched the young man speak to his Miss Swan. She was smiling at him and then he saw her blush.

"Brother, you look positively fierce. Whatever are you frowning at?" Rosalie was sitting across the room from Edward doing some of the eternal stitchery that women seemed to always have at hand.

"Oh, nothing to matter." He turned away from the scene in the back garden and tried to quell the twinge of jealousy that flashed through his heart. He had no right to feel that way. His servant could speak to whom she pleased, and smile and blush at them as well.

Before Rosalie could question him further, there was a knock at the door followed by Angela entering. Bobbing a curtsey, the maid announced, "Master and Mistress Aro Volturi and Miss Jane Volturi." She stepped out of the doorway and the most incredible looking people appeared in her place. The gentleman was wearing an enormous powdered wig with a bright purple, heavily embroidered frock coat with matching breeches and the most intricately decorated waist coast that ever was. He had a tall walking stick that he used as a prop.

But nothing could compare to the creature that accompanied him. She must have been half of a foot taller than her companion and was dressed from head to toe in cloth of gold as though she was her own sun. Her powdered hair rose at least a foot into the air and had practically a whole garden's worth of wax fruit and silk flowers adorning it in addition to the bodice of her gown. The panniers on her dress were so wide she had to shimmy sideways to get through the doorway. She was very proud and held her head high looking down her nose at all who shared the world with her.

Behind this astonishing couple was a girl who was as petite as her mother was great. Her dress was pure white and her blonde ringlets framed a doll-like face. Limpid blue eyes scanned the room, settled on Edward and then dropped to the floor in front of her as a charming blush bloomed upon her cheeks.

Rosalie rose to greet them. "Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Volturi, please do have a seat and make yourselves comfortable. Angela, bring us some refreshments."

The girl ran across the hall to the dining room where refreshments had been awaiting this moment. She took the kettle off the flame and poured water into a large teapot and carefully charged a smaller one with the loose tea as Bella had shown her. She placed the teapots on the large tray that was filled with slices of cake, cheese, and sugared nuts and returned to the sitting room to set it on the low table in front of Rosalie.

Rosalie was answering a question that she had been asked. "Yes, I will be keeping house for Edward as he finishes reading law with Mr. Chase."

Aro sniffed. "Samuel Chase? He of the revolutionary politics? Are you sure that is wise, my good man? You could gain an unbecoming reputation."

Edward looked surprised at Aro's assessment. "Mr. Chase has a sterling reputation and is a genius in the legal field. I consider my opportunity a very happy prospect."

Aro shrugged. "I hope for your sake it is true."

Bored with the topic, Sulpicia Volturi turned to Rosalie and said, "Do you plan to do much during the season, my dear?"

"Our socializing will be limited because, as you can see, we are in mourning for our family."

"Oh, what a shame. Our Jane will be presented to polite society this year and we would so like you both to be a part of it."

Edward said, "Yes, it is a terrible shame that my aunt and cousins died. I know you appreciate our sadness concerning it. I am not sure we would be up for celebrating such a mirthful activity."

Jane looked up at Edward, her eyes full of a combination of admiration and disappointment. In her mind, Edward was an indisputable prize, one she would take any means to win. She blinked then looked back down at the floor, making sure to blush prettily in case he was looking.

Angela was helping Rosalie pass around the tea and sweets, trying to remember exactly what Bella had taught her. So far she had done well, especially since Rosalie was giving her subtle hints along the way. Miss Swan would be so pleased with her.

"But at least you will go out to dinner parties and the like?" Sulpicia asked.

Rosalie answered, "Quiet ones, perhaps, but not in the near future, I am afraid."

There was a silence until Aro remarked, "Sir, that reminds me. I have a business proposition for you. I've no wish to bore the ladies with it, so do you think we could converse privately?"

Edward first looked in surprise at his guest and then apologetically at his sister as he stood, "Perhaps we can step across the hall to my study."

"Your study? I don't remember such in this house." Aro rose to join him.

"When my Uncle Thomas was alive the room down the hall was used as his study. Upon his death, my aunt used it in a manner more to her liking but now it is back to its original intent."

Edward opened the study door for Aro to precede him within.

Aro exclaimed, "This is a fine study with a goodly number of books. Were they yours, sir?"

"A few I brought with me but most were my uncle's. They were being stored in the attics when discovered. He had quite the collection."

Aro squawked in a manner that Edward assumed was laughter and said, "I've heard they weren't the only treasure your aunt had hidden away."

"No?"

"No. Your uncle had a fine cellar and in fact, that is what I am inquiring about today. I heard that you were considering selling it?"

"I am sir."

"Well, then I'd be interested in buying it, the whole lock, stock and barrel. But I have a problem."

"A problem, sir?"

"Aye. I've no place to put such a treasure, so here's my proposition to you. Since we are neighbors, won't you let me lease your cellar from you for the purpose of storing the wine? You could just give me a key to the lock and my man can come over and select the vintages for the day."

"That may be amenable, sir." Edward wasn't sure how much he liked the idea of Mr. Volturi having access to any part of his house but since the cellar wasn't connected to the living quarters, perhaps this could work out temporarily.

"I heard you wanted two hundred pounds for the whole business and I am willing to give you that plus an additional fifty pounds for the cellar in rental."

Edward blinked in surprise. He didn't expect to get his asking price for the wine but it would do his wallet well by agreeing to terms with Mr. Volturi. "I will sell you the vintages, sir, and I will allow you to store them in my cellar but at no charge but only for six months. That should give you time to build your own accommodation for the collection."

Aro looked a little stunned by that proposal but after appearing to think about it for a bit, stuck out his hand and said, "Then it's accepted, sir. Fine. Fine. I shall have the money to you by the end of the day."

Shaking Aro's hand, Edward smiled and said, "I hope you will enjoy it, sir. My uncle had unparalleled taste."

"So I've heard. The wine merchant has the inventory?"

"Yes, he does but he gave me a copy. There are some bottles in the cellar that aren't included in the sale. I will remove them this afternoon."

"They weren't listed in the inventory?"

"No. I selected them for my personal use and the listing reflected that."

"Very well then, let us return to the ladies."

The polite time for an afternoon visit had passed and soon the Volturis were ushered out of the Cullen residence. Edward and Rosalie settled back down in their seats in the sitting room, not without Edward first peering out of the window to see if Bella was still working out in the yard. She wasn't there but he could see that the garden had already been partially planted.

He decided go down to her so that they could remove his reserved wine from the cellar. He went to his study to get the inventory and then came down to the kitchen to find Bella. She was rolling out the top crust for a pie.

He stood there admiring the scene a moment, noting how her hair curled riotously around her face and how she must have pushed a curl off her face as she worked because there was a smudge of flour on her cheek. He was getting distracted.

"Miss Swan, I need to remove some bottles from my cellar and I wondered if you would help me?"

She looked up, a glad smile on her features and said, "Of course, sir. Could you give me a few moments first? I need to get this pie into the oven or else supper won't be ready until the lamplighter makes his rounds."

"Certainly. Shall I come back?"

"Oh no, sir. 'Twon't take me long." She deftly placed the crust over the already filled meat pie and then started crimping the edges.

"You do that so quickly."

"Many years of practice has made it come easy, sir." She stabbed vent holes through the crust and then opened the oven door and slid the pie inside. This hearth was very special as it had two ovens in it, one on each side. Bella was able to have two bakings at the same time but at different temperatures. It made a world of difference to her work.

"There we are, sir. I am at your disposal." Bella washed her hands and took off her kitchen apron.

"I have about five cases of wine that will need to be stored in your coolest room."

"I think the front larder would work." Bella led Edward over to the room next to her chamber. He couldn't help but peer into her plain but tidy room as they passed.

Bella drew his attention to the room next door. "See, this door even has a lock. I don't have the key but if you do, it would be a goodly place for wine."

Edward nodded and tried several keys he had on a fob until one worked. "Here it is. I shall give this key to you to keep."

"Why thank you, sir. As you can see, this room is dark and mostly underground and it's farthest away from the hearth. There are even shelves where the wine can be stored."

"No worry on that. I will take some of the racks from the cellar and put them in here. We shall need light down there, though."

He led the way outside and to the door of the wine cellar. As he unlocked the door, Bella lit the candle in the candlestick she held. The stairway that led down to the small room was narrow and dark so Bella held the candle high so they wouldn't trip. Once down there she was amazed at the numbers of bottles.

"I'd no idea this was down here."

"Yes. It is quite extensive. I have just this day sold most of it to Mr. Volturi from next door but these two racks are not included in the sale and the ones I wish to move. Take this crate and help me pack them within."

"I shall first fetch more candles, sir, so we can see well."

In a moment she was back and placed several lit candles around the room. There were four more empty crates and the pair gently placed the bottles within them. Edward couldn't help but be aware of Bella's proximity in the tight quarters. It seemed that his every nerve was aware of her as she worked quietly by his side. He tried very hard to keep his mind on the task but it proved impossible.

Finally, they had the two racks emptied but for one bottle. They both reached for it at the same time, his hand covering hers by accident as she grasped the bottle. They froze in place and he couldn't help but twine his fingers through hers. Their eyes met—his soft and earnest, hers wide with wonder.

Crouched on the floor, and holding hands, they stared at each other until Edward said, "You ave a bit of flour just here …" He tenderly rubbed the streak of flour off her cheek with his thumb.

Overcome with sensation, she shut her eyes and turned her cheek into his hand at the pure pleasure of his touch. She heard him sigh and whisper, "My nightingale."

The web of Eros that had been silkenly spun around the couple was suddenly broken when Angela's voice startled them apart. "Mr. Cullen? Are you down there, sir?"

Bella stood and busied herself by putting the remaining bottle in its box as Edward called out, "Here, Angela. I am in the wine cellar with Miss Swan."

The girl soon appeared at the foot of the stairs and said, "Miss Cullen bids you come, sir. There's a visitor for you."

"I'll get these boxes up to their new home, Mr. Cullen, have no fear. If you would leave the key, I'll lock up when I am done."

"Thank you, Miss Swan." Edward was perplexed. He left the maids to go up to his sister and their guest thinking that he was the greatest fool on the planet. Where did all his high talk go about staying away and behaving distantly with Bella? Dash it all, he had no will power at all when it came to her, it seemed. What was he going to do?

Bella herself moved in a fog as she carried each box up and put it in the cold larder. She went back to the cellar and carried the two empty racks up as well. After gathering the candlesticks and locking the wine cellar door, she returned to the larder and arranged the bottles back on their racks, hoping they weren't disturbed too much.

Once all was in its place she allowed herself the luxury of sitting for a moment and staring at the fire. She couldn't help but to day dream of how wonderful Edward's touch was and how it had left her wanting… something _more._

But _more_ was definitely not going to be had. Not now. Not here. Not with him.

She needed to sternly remind herself. Her position was too precarious for her to get swept away by the overwhelming feelings she had for that man. She was truly discontented with herself. She would make sure to stay away from him from now on. There was no reason for her to be dealing with Mr. Cullen after all. She could do all her work under the direction and supervision of Miss Cullen. She just had to put all her resolve into making it so. She would, even if it killed her.

And it just might.

* * *

Emmett and Rosalie were conversing quietly when Edward appeared in the doorway.

"I do apologize, sir. I was seeing to some arrangements below. How are you this day?" Edward asked.

"I am as fine as frog's hair, Mr. Cullen. I was just explaining to your sister that I have resigned my position with Captain Laurent's ship."

"Have you? You seemed to be wedded to the seafaring life at one time."

"Aye, I was but no longer. I have had my fill o'it and am now hoping to be wedded in another direction."

"I wish you joy in your quest, sir."

"Thank you." Emmett was staring hard at Edward as though trying to avoid looking in Rosalie's direction. He had noticed immediately that she was wearing the ribbon he had sent with the flowers that morning and he was overjoyed. The trouble of it was, since he had not her family's approval at the moment, he couldn't acknowledge it in words but his blinding smile and the delighted glimmer in his eyes told Rosalie all she needed to know.

"What plans have you now that you've quit sailing?"

"I haven't exactly quit sailing per se. I'm going to help my father with his enterprise. He has a fleet of local merchant vessels that ply the Chesapeake and its tributaries. Some dock here, some in other ports along the bay. He wants to turn much of the running of the business over to me so that he can participate in some political doings."

"That sounds well, Mr. McCarty. So you'll be staying in Annapolis?" Rosalie asked.

"Most definitely, Miss Cullen. Nothing could make me leave now." He beamed at her, his plans evident on his face. Rosalie smiled and looked away as she blushed.

"Have you any business in Alexandria, Mr. McCarty?" Edward asked.

"I may do. In fact, I know I do." Emmett darted a look at Rosalie, then stood.

"I must be taking my leave, miss." He bowed over Rosalie's hand. "If I am to travel to Alexandria, I must needs prepare."

"It was a pleasure to see you, sir," Rosalie said as the young man left the room.

"Well, well, sister dear. I wonder what his business could be about in our home town?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he should seek to make the acquaintance of our parents."

"I am sure that will be the case, Rosalie. Is that what you wish?"

All pretense and society polish left Rosalie's countenance as she said sincerely, "More than anything, brother. More than anything."

**AN: **

**Rumble cups, Thunder mugs, Chamber Pots – the original porta-potty. They were usually made out of china and the better ones came with a lid. They were kept either behind a screen or under the bed. I have a picture of one on my Live Journal. Google LadyGwynsWords and it should come up. Someone was very poor when they didn't have a pot to piss in.**

**A hip bath and a full emersion tub. The hip bath was portable and you sat in it with your legs hanging out. The full emersion tub was just that. Some were portable but it was awkward and hard for one person to handle on their own. Pictures on my Live Journal (see above.)**

_**When I Was A Fair Maid**_** was an old sea chantey about a young woman who disguised herself as a boy and went to sea. She was quite successful and actually did the work better than a man. She was found out when a young woman fell in love with her, thinking she was a boy. The sailor/maid revealed her sex and the thwarted young woman told on her. Though she had to leave, everyone was sorry to see her go. There is some speculation that it is actually a true story and there's debate at just how frequently this sort of thing happened. You can hear people sing it on Youtube. Search for **_**When I Was A Fair Maid.**_

* * *

**Chapter 13: Courtship**

* * *

Carlisle sat back in his chair and contemplated the study door that had just shut after his visitor departed. To say he was surprised at that caller's purpose was an understatement. After a few minutes of puzzled pondering, he decided to seek his wife. Maybe she would have light to shed upon the matter.

He found her in her boudoir, finishing her morning chocolate as she sat in bed reading a letter that had apparently just arrived. The servant waiting in attendance upon Esme realized that her presence was probably not wanted so she bobbed a curtsey and left.

"Good morning, my heart," Esme said. She lifted up the missive she was holding, "I've just received the most curious letter from Rosalie."

Carlisle sat in a chair nearby. "Have you, m'dear? Coincidentally, I have just received the most curious morning visitor. I wonder if one has something to do with the other?"

Esme peered at her husband. "What do you mean?"

"Share the letter from Rosalie first and then I shall tell you of our visitor."

Esme stared at the note. "She doesn't say much of purpose. She writes that the house is well, the maid is well and she's hired another, who is also well. Edward is well, Jasper is well, la-di-dah, la-di-dah—I must remind her there are several more descriptive words to use in the English language than 'well.'"

Shaking her head, she went on, "But here we come to it—in closing she mentions that she has rekindled a friendship with a person she met on her last visit to Annapolis and we shouldn't be surprised if we were to see him in Alexandria some day. She bids us to make him most welcome when he comes. Isn't that curious, Carlisle, as if we would ever be unwelcoming to one of our children's friends?"

"Hmmmmm. It isn't such a mystery, my dear for I have just received one Emmett McCarty from Annapolis asking permission to court our daughter."

"No!" Esme was shocked. "Rosalie has a suitor?"

"It would seem so."

"What manner of man is he?"

"He seems a well set up gentleman. I'd say he has five and twenty years or so and comely in appearance and manner. I know of his family. They are in shipping along the Chesapeake and they have a tidy business. I have used their ships myself to transport goods in the past. He certainly would be able to keep Rosalie in the manner to which she has been accustomed. From Rosalie's letter, I assume she favors the fellow?"

"It does explain her cryptic remark at the end. Truly, Carlisle, I had no idea that this was transpiring. I feel remiss in my duties as a mother."

"Rosalie has always kept her own counsel, even as a small child. Mr. McCarty says that he was taken with our daughter from their first meeting last June. However, he went on to explain that Abigail did not look kindly upon his suit and sent him off."

"_Abigail_ sent him off? What right had she to do that? For what reason?"

"I explained to Mr. McCarty that Abigail was out of bounds to do so but I did inquire whether he knew the reason for her disapproval. He said he believed that she thought he wasn't well settled enough to provide for our daughter. At the time he was an officer aboard _The Patience_, a merchanter out of Philadelphia. He has since resigned his position and is taking up the family business which will keep him close to home."

"Did you give him permission to court our daughter?"

"First, I asked if he knew of any preference Rosalie might have for him. He told me he sent her a posy a few days ago and when he called on her later, she was wearing a ribbon from the flower in her hair."

In a breathless voice, Esme asked, "Did you think to inquire as to the color of the ribbon?"

"Aye my dear, it was yellow."

Grinning broadly and clasping her hands together, Esme exclaimed, "Everlasting love! She was wearing it in her hair? She must love him, or think she does. It would have been a sure thing had she pinned it to her bodice above her heart."

"Be that as it may, that is more interest than she's shown in any other young man."

"Very true. I was beginning to despair of ever seeing her settled. But now that I think on it, she has been rather impatient with society these last months. Maybe she was pining for this gentleman. You gave him permission?"

"I did but I made it clear that we would allow our children to choose for themselves. It will be up to Rosalie to decide in his favor or not. I did, however, mention that she was still in mourning for her aunt and cousins. Nothing can be assayed for the next four months, at the least."

"Not necessarily, Carlisle. We can surely put off our black after three months and then go into purple and gray. That's only a few weeks away. Surely an understated courtship could begin then."

"Don't you think mourning for only three months is somewhat disrespectful of Abigail's memory? Edward is her heir after all."

Esme sighed, "'Twas not as though she were flesh and blood to us, Carlisle. She was only your brother's wife. Anyway, her chief mourner would be Edward, not Rosalie. It is not incumbent upon our daughter to mourn much more than a month or two. Three months on her part is graciousness indeed."

"But she is keeping house for the chief mourner. Shouldn't that be more of a reason to observe the custom?"

"Then I shall have to take Rosalie home with me out of respect for our dear relatives and leave our son in the clutches of a conniving housemaid."

"Do you think it is as bad as that between Edward and his servant?"

"I don't know but Rosalie was my emissary to ensure decorum. Now that she is being courted, she's sure to be distracted. It's rather amusing at how my plans have been foiled and by cupid's arrow at that."

"It's well that you are sanguine concerning it." Carlisle laughed.

Esme pushed her covers off and swung her legs over the side of the bed, "'Tis Rosalie who will need a chaperone, now. I must go to her, Carlisle."

He gazed at his wife's shapely legs and how her silk nightrail clung to her bosom and neat waist. He rose from his chair to sit next her on the bed and said, "That you do … but not at this very minute."

* * *

Bella stood at the kitchen work table and cut up the vegetables Jacob had brought to her that morning. He was quite a merry lad. She couldn't resist his engaging smile and insistence that she accept the largess he had gave her in the form of the first fresh vegetables of the season. Her own garden wouldn't produce anything for weeks so she was thankful for his generosity yet a little hesitant of his attentions.

Surely he knew she could not dally with him while she was indentured. Besides, though she enjoyed his sunny nature and kindness, he seemed more like a puppy to her than a man she'd have an interest in.

Now why was she thinking that way? Such a thought would never have crossed her mind in Portsmouth, or even while she was on _The Patie_nce. But since she came to Annapolis, her views had changed dramatically. Ever since she met _him_, nothing had been the same. _He_ was on her mind constantly.

And he shouldn't be, not for a moment.

To distract herself, she started singing as she worked, picking the most complicated piece she could. Usually, that worked. Her hands moved in an unthinking rhythm to the old ballad called _"The Three Ravens." _She didn't realize the melancholy air also reflected what was in her heart, as well.

In the main hall, Edward's step faltered as he heard a sweet, disembodied voice floating up from the floor below. His breath stopped. It was his nightingale singing a spell to ensnare him even more than he already was. He stood there like a pole axed bull, mouth agape and heart leaping from the joy of hearing her.

They had done well keeping apart from one another in an unspoken agreement. Bella stayed below stairs cooking, working in her garden, or sewing until Edward had left for the day. Angela was now the one to awaken the gentlemen and serve them at table when they broke their fast. Jasper and Edward had taken up their studies with Mr. Chase and Mr. Brandon and that kept them from home until supper time. Bella would do her housework while Edward was gone but he had felt her presence in the way his favorite journal was at his place setting in the morning and how his bed was turned down so neatly at night. Sometimes, he had thought he caught the scent of verbena lingering in the air signifying her recent passage.

He snapped out of his daze when the ethereal singing ended and he realized that he had stood there for minutes with his mouth hanging open like a great pilchard. He hurried into his study and shut the door. His frustration with himself was mounting. No matter what he did, he simply couldn't seem to get the maid out of his mind and he was honor bound to keep her safe and unmolested. His parents were coming to Annapolis this day at high tide and perhaps their visit would help to divert his wayward thoughts and feelings.

There was a soft knock on his door and he bid whoever was there to come in.

Angela appeared and said, "Mr. Amos Berty, sir."

Edward rose to shake hands with the rotund gentleman who happened to be the chief constable in Annapolis, "Welcome, sir. Please sit with me next to the fire. Would you care for any refreshments?"

"I am rather thirsty, sir, thank you."

"Angela, bring us some tea, please."

"Yes, sir," she said as she bobbed a curtsey and left.

The men exchanged pleasantries until Bella herself brought in a pot of tea and some little cakes. She deftly served them and then left, pausing at the doorway to curtsey. She couldn't help looking up to see Edward watching her with a soft gaze and tender smile. She blushed and smiled herself then left the men to their conversation.

Clearing his throat, Edward got down to business, "Have you anything to report concerning my family?"

"Well, sir, I do. I spoke to Dr. Gerandy who treated your kin during their final illness although there wasn't much he could do for them. By the time he was called, Old Peter and Charlotte had already passed and the Missus was in her death throes. The poor girls followed soon after. I asked him if the household could have been stricken by eating poisonous mushrooms and he agreed that they had the symptoms for it, although they were too far gone for him to witness the spasms that generally occur."

"But how did they get the poisonous death caps in the first place?"

"No one knows for sure but I was talking to old Peter's sister. She recalled that mushrooms were a favorite food of her brother's and he always looked forward to the first pickings of the season. In fact, they used to go into the forests and seek them together. They stopped doing it a few years back because old Peter couldn't see as clearly as he once did and her eye sight was dimming as well. They feared they would pick the wrong sort because they could no longer tell the subtle differences between the two kinds. It wasn't worth the chance, you see.

"She recalled that Peter had been grumbling these past few seasons because he had not had that delicacy ever since and so I speculate that the old man couldn't resist them this year. I believe that it was he, who despite his frail vision, went out mushrooming and couldn't tell that he was picking poison. There isn't any nefarious motive otherwise. Your aunt was well liked and respected in Annapolis. No one wished her ill. Therefore, I am declaring the cause of their deaths is due to misadventure."

Edward sighed. "Thank you for looking into this tragic situation. 'Tis such a sad time for our family."

"Your aunt will be missed, Mr. Cullen, as well as those poor young girls but let me say that we are glad to have you here. I hope you will be happy in our town."

"I have hopes that I will be once our mourning has eased."

"Of course, sir. I shall be off now. Thank you for your courtesy." The constable rose and bowed before taking his leave.

Edward somberly pondered how one misstep could spoil so much for so many. Though he felt guilty to think of it, he wanted to believe that Providence had intended some good to come from this sad situation. By coming to Annapolis, he had regained a direction for his life by reading law with Mr. Chase.

And also, he had met Isabella Swan.

* * *

Bella laughed at the prattle pate who sat before her at her kitchen table, helping himself to the large helping of pudding she had set before him. He reminded her not so much of the polished dandy he had seemed when they first met but of a scapegrace boy, sweet talking the cook to cage a treat or two.

"Swanny, this is the most toothsome _gâteau_ I have ever had the pleasure of eating." Jasper had a dollop of cream on the corner of his mouth and he looked exactly like a twelve year old, sitting there with is elbows on the table and mischief in his eye.

"'Tis but a trifle, Mr. Whitlock. Are ye sure 'tis not the sherry you have the liking of instead of the cake?"

Jasper shook his head, "The whole is pleasant, dear girl."

"You shouldn't praise me for it, then. Miss Cullen had the making of it."

"Did she? Then I shall have her make a bowl of it for my wedding." Jasper laughed at the expression on Bella's face.

"_Wedding_, sir? Then, I wish you most very well. Who is the lady?"

Jasper's gaze softened to match the smile on his face. "She's a beauty. The most perfect piece of femininity the good Lord ever created and my true love."

"Oh sir, do I know the lady?" Bella was thinking dubiously of the dinner party when Mr. McCarty had joined them and Miss Cullen batted her eyes in Jasper's direction. She would be surprised to think Jasper returned any of that lady's feigned affection.

"I don't believe you do, my dear Swanny. She's the daughter of my legal mentor, Mr. Brandon. Her name is Mary Alice."

"And is she aware of your intentions?" Bella teasingly asked.

"I think she may have a clue. I've been leaving her bits of doggerel and some blossoms behind the old man's back. I am not sure how happy he'd be at his daughter's courtship by his legal clerk."

"Oh, Mr. Whitlock, you are a rascal and that's for certain but truly he'd be a fool to disapprove. You are a very fine man."

Jasper coughed. "I have the _makings_ of a very fine man, but I'll admit I am not so fine as all of that. Do not doom me to a life of staid _ennui_ before I am five and twenty, please."

Bella burst out laughing. He was such a card.

Taking another bite of trifle he went on to say, "I think she may be coming to visit Rosalie for tea one day—after Mrs. Cullen gets here, of course."

"Do the ladies know each other?" Bella knew that Rosalie hadn't entertained many people since she arrived, due to the household's mourning. Condolence calls had been paid long before Bella had arrived in town and Mr. and Mrs. Cullen were the ones to receive most of them while they were in town for the funerals.

"Indeed they do. They met last summer."

"I am sure Miss Brandon is a very fine lady and I wish you very well, sir."

"Thank you, m'lady. I do believe I shall be very well; very well indeed."

Angela rushed down the stairs at that moment and said in a breathless voice, "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen are arriving!"

Jasper put down his spoon, wiped his mouth and stood, pulling his coat straight as he did so. "I shall go up then."

Angela followed him upstairs as Bella quickly cleared away the dirty dish Jasper left behind. She wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Cullen decided to inspect the house right away and she didn't want to be found wanting. Tucking a wayward curl back behind her ear, she soon was climbing the stairs to be on hand as Edward and Rosalie's parents arrived.

She stood quietly beside Angela at the back of the hallway while Jasper, Edward and Rosalie greeted Esme and Carlisle as they entered the door. She was struck at how handsome the couple was but then, both of their children were quite attractive and she knew that followed in families. Esme was greeting her children fondly and Carlisle had a grin that reached ear to ear as he shook Jasper's hand.

Disengaging himself from his mother's embrace, Edward led the lady over to where Bella and Angela were standing. "Mother these are our servants, Miss Isabella Swan and Miss Angela Crowley." Both girls curtsied and kept their eyes politely downcast.

"Ah, Miss Swan. I've heard your praises sung by both my children," Esme said.

"Allow me to add to their paeans. Swanny is a miracle worker," Jasper crowed. Edward rolled his eyes at Jasper's nickname for Bella. It seemed impertinent to him.

Carlisle added, "I have heard you made order out of chaos here, Miss Swan."

"Thank you very much, sir and madam. 'Twas my pleasure. Angela was a great help to me."

Esme nodded kindly at the young girl, whose blushing smile indicated her gratification at the compliment. Turning back to her daughter, she said, "Rosalie, could you show us our room? I would love to freshen myself before dinner."

"Certainly, mama. Please come with me."

Bella heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that Mrs. Cullen was disposed to be pleasant and that eased her worry a bit. She returned to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the noon meal, reflecting that the longer she was here, the happier she became.

* * *

A week later, she was still as content. Esme had proven to be a delightful mistress. She didn't take over for Rosalie but her gentle presence and wisdom had been felt throughout all the workings of the household on Charles Street. Since the gentlemen had been out during the day, she tactfully suggested that their main meal should be held in the evening hours instead of at noontime. That had made for jolly mealtimes and frequently Emmett McCarty had been a guest.

During the week, Esme had spent a lot of time working alongside Bella and Rosalie in the kitchen. Evidently, cooking was a family enthusiasm and she had been as interested in learning Bella's methods as she had been in sharing her own. She had even gone to the market with Bella and Rosalie to see what was offered there. Her zeal had been contagious and Bella was encouraged to venture into the culinary unknown more often than not. The fishermen had been forewarning of a favorite local delicacy called "blue crabs" that would make their appearance in the coming warmer months and the three ladies were planning on serving a variety of crab dishes at their table when the time came.

Esme had also been interested in Bella's vocation. She had admired the dress that Bella made for Angela and appreciated how extra allowance had been cunningly made in the seams to allow for the young girl's growth. The ladies had even started planning dresses for once they left their weeds behind them and had happily conferred with Bella as to the latest London styles.

Bella and Edward hadn't spent much time together, which was just as well. Any time they had been in the same room, Esme's kind but careful eye was upon them. Both young people had known without saying they had been treading upon dangerous ground and appreciated the shelter that Esme and Carlisle had provided.

Bella was now planting flowers along the side of the back yard, opposite of the bourgeoning kitchen garden. The trees were adorning themselves with spring leaves and a variety of pastel flowers. It was so lovely, now. The sun was warm on her shoulders and she had taken to leaving her shawl inside as she worked. She started singing, as was her wont when happy,

"_Oranges and lemons_

_Say the bells of St. Clemens._

_I owe you five farthings_

_Say the bells of St. Martins._

_When will you pay me?_

_Say the bells of Old Bailey."_

Then, she was surprised when a clear tenor joined her in singing,

"_When I grow rich,_

_Say the bells of Shoreditch._

_When will that be?_

_Say the bells of Stepney._

_I'm sure I don't know._

_Say the great bells of Bowe." _

Bella laughed in delight along with her fellow singer, Jacob Black, who had come on his weekly round.

"You have a fine voice, sir!" she exclaimed.

"It must be the weather and company. I finally found you singing a song I knew and I couldn't hold back."

"I am glad ye didn't. I do so enjoy a good tune."

"Do you? Did you know there are musical entertainments at St. Mary's on Tuesday evenings? I could accompany you there if you ever wished to hear them."

Before she could respond, a gruff voice interrupted them. "Excuse me, Miss Swan, but I have need of you in the house." Edward startled the couple and Bella was surprised at the angry look on her master's face. In dismay, she nodded goodbye to Mr. Black and rushed inside the house, so sorry to have displeased Edward but not quite understanding why.

Once she got inside, she turned to look out of the window and watched as she saw Edward stand haughtily in the yard as Jacob gathered the pail of scraps, disposed of them and returned the bucket to its place. He doffed his cap at Edward and left, the sunny expression he normally wore now completely absent. Bella wondered what Edward had said to him. She hoped he didn't take his ire out on the lad. Jacob was just full of himself as most young men were at that age.

Edward watched Jacob depart, then stormed back into the kitchen where Bella awaited him with thunder on his face. Eyes ablaze, he said, "Miss Swan you are aware that as an indentured servant you may not conduct _affaires de coeur_ with young men."

She gasped. "But sir, I wasn't. He is just a friendly lad. There's no harm in him."

"I heard him ask you to step out with him."

"He knows only of my fondness for music. He was just being kindly, sir. I would never think of stepping out with him in the way you imply. I know my servitude requires my utter commitment to you for three years. Only after that may I think of a man in that way."

He drew in a gasping breath as pain lanced his heart. "No, Miss Swan. I don't wish you to ever think of another man in that way, not today, not in three years, not ever."

He knew in that moment the giddy truth. His heart had long surrendered to her and now his mind was finally admitting it as well. His hands moved without his conscious thought and reached out to pull her close, wrapping one about her waist and tilting her chin up with the other.

He gazed longingly into her brown eyes and whispered, "No other man but me, my nightingale." He leaned down and let his lips drift across hers in a delicate caress.

"No other man," he breathed over them.

He pressed his lips to hers and savored the feeling of her softness, marveling at how right this felt, how his heart stuttered in celebration. To his delight she responded to him as a budding flower does to the sun; opening up in his warmth. His every nerve was afire with delightful sensation as he parted his lips to taste hers. Here was heaven. Here was bliss.

Her arms, which had been hanging loosely at her sides, now crept up around his neck and she couldn't help but to curl into his embrace. Edward knew he was getting carried away, so he pulled back and gazed at this wonderful, beautiful girl and said, "Isabella do you feel as I do?"

She drew breath to answer when a sharp voice from behind them echoed through the room and said sternly, "You forget yourself, sirrah!"

* * *

He knelt behind a bush and watched the girl as she worked in the garden. It took a long time for him to walk from Philadelphia to Annapolis. He was pleased that he was able to locate her so quickly once he arrived in the area. She looked much better than he remembered from the ship. Life in the colony must appeal to her. After a while, she stood up and pressed her hands to her lower back as though she was weary from the work. Lifting her face to the spring sun, she closed her eyes as she basked in its warmth. Someone called from inside the house and she turned to look in that direction.

"Coming," she answered and picked up the trowel she had been using and went inside.

The watching man nodded his head. She was ripe for the picking. All he needed to do was be patient and she'd fall into his hand like a purple plum. He sniggered a bit at the thought. He'd hide in that old barn he passed down the road and bide his time until she was alone and unsuspecting.

Then he'd pounce.

**AN:**

**The Three Ravens—** **An old English Folk Song. Look on Youtube for "There Were Three Ravens" by Ravenscroft and you'll hear a pretty rendition of it. It's a story about three black birds (the species and number varies, the Scottish version is entitled "Twa Corbies" or two crows), carrion eaters, were speaking of eating the body of a slain knight but the man's body was being guarded by his "hawkes and hounds" until his pregnant leman (his wife/mistress) came to mourn and bury his body. It is an ode to faithfulness and loyalty. Pretty apt for this Bella, I am thinking.**

**A pilchard is a stupid, gaping fish.**

_**Gateau**_**- French for cake.**

_**Ennui**_**- French for boredom.**

**Pudding – not an unusual definition to my British friends, but in this case it means dessert, not that mousse-like concoction we in the US think of when we see the word.**

**The bells of London – is an old nursery rhyme/song/game that has many variations. I quoted the one that I first heard when I watched "A Town Like Alice" starring Bryan Brown and Helen Morse. If you'd like to hear the song, Youtube Nursery Rhymes Oranges and Lemons.**

**Weeds – in this sense, mourning clothes. Black morning clothes. **

_**Affaires des coeurs**_** – French for love affairs.**

* * *

**Chapter 14: New Moon**

* * *

"Oh dear, what shall we do?" Esme fretted. Her husband was watching her pace Edward's study as he sat attempting to read the _Maryland Gazette_.

Putting the paper down he said, "Truly, Esme, there's nothing we can do. Our son isn't a boy any longer, he's a man. He must choose his own course concerning this _contre temps_. We can only support his wise decisions and give him counsel when he asks."

"But to interfere with his servant in such an unthinking way? We didn't rear him to act so dishonorably."

"Then you should trust that he will do the correct thing, Esme. He has grown to be an upstanding man and I am sure he will come to the right decision. We must stay out of it."

She sat down in the chair across from him and asked earnestly, "Did I do wrong to interrupt their tryst? Rather, should I have retreated back up the stairs and pretended I didn't see?"

"That would have been dishonest but I believe your interruption did stem Edward's impetuosity and gave him a needed moment to reflect. Let us simply pray that his ponderings remind him of his duty."

Esme sighed, "I suppose you are correct in that, husband. I shall be hopeful. And quiet."

Carlisle smiled warmly at his wife, "You don't have to be quiet, m'dear, just discrete."

Esme picked up some needlework she had set by earlier and sniffed. "Let us just hope that is not what Edward decides."

"Decides what?" Carlisle asked.

"That he should be discrete while conducting his _affaire_ and to try to keep it quiet. That way will spell disaster."

Carlisle chuckled. He had always considered Esme's beauty to be entrancing but it was her wit and sense of humor that kept him intrigued. There was never a tedious moment with her at his side.

They sat together, each pursuing their own thoughts while he read and she stitched. A while later Edward entered the room. Both concerned parents watched as he crossed the floor and stood before them, the color high on his cheeks, his hands worrying each other behind his back.

The young man's face was grim when he said, "I have something I wish to discuss with you."

* * *

Bella was standing at the sink scrubbing a pot and awash herself in anxiety. How had she so abandoned herself to her feelings as Edward kissed her? She had known that way led to disaster but she'd done it anyway. She'd melted into his arms like a warm wax candle, pulling him as close as she could and pressing her lips to his in wanton abandon. She could still feel his arms about her and his lips—oh, dear. Just the thought of them made goose flesh break out on her arms and caused delightfully strange feelings to blaze throughout her body.

But then that fire had been doused when his mother had surprised them. Bella's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She doubted she could ever look Esme in the face again. Turning her mind back to her task, she scrubbed a little harder.

"Child, you shall scour the bottom out of that pot the way you are going at it."

Startled, Bella dropped the utensil into the sink with a clatter and turned to see Esme standing behind her. Her stomach knotted with apprehension.

"Come, Isabella, let us share a pot of tea and sit by the fire. I've a wish to talk to you."

The knot in her stomach turned into a full-blown stomach ache but Bella complied. She noted how Esme used her Christian name and could not understand why. Did that indicate the lady's state of mind? Would that bode good or ill?

Bella could hardly taste her tea as Esme sipped her own and looked over the lip of her cup at the apprehensive girl sitting across from her.

"It seems, my dear, that my precipitous son has caused quite a dilemma in this house with his antics."

Bella looked down and blushed fiery red. "'Twas not just his actions, ma'am. I was at fault, too," she managed to say. Her innate honesty could never allow all the blame to fall upon Edward's shoulders.

"I doubt you would have instigated such behavior, Isabella," Esme said. "I have long known that my son's interest in you went beyond what it should be. I hope you don't mind me admitting that since my arrival I have spent time trying to get your measure. I wanted to discern whether my son's housekeeper was of good character or not."

"Despite what you witnessed today, I hope you have not found me wanting in that regard, ma'am."

"On the contrary, Isabella, you are a fine young woman. You are hardworking, God-fearing, and sweet tempered. I see nothing here to indicate your connivance. 'Twas no harm created by your doing."

"But there was harm?"

"Not of your instigation, my dear. It seems that my son has not found you wanting either. In fact, 'tis his _wants_ I worry about as they put you both in danger's way."

"How so, ma'am?"

"I worry about your reputations, my dear. 'Tis scandalous to carry on with your master and 'tis dishonorable for him to carry on with you, even if his intentions are noble. Edward has told us that you plan to open up your own shop after your indenture. Tell me, my dear, if even a rumor of your liaison with my son is hinted, what sort of customers will patronize you?"

Bella blanched. She knew that if she had less than a pristine character, no one of good standing would dare enter her shop door. Her stomach ache progressed to full on queasiness and she put down her tea cup, her eyes wide, as she stared in dread at Esme.

"What can I do?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Esme smiled reassuringly at the girl and said, "You must separate yourself from the circumstances. If you aren't living in the same house as my son, temptation will be eliminated."

"But how can I? Mr. Cullen owns my indenture."

"Edward has suggested that he end your indenture and you remove to Alexandria as his father's and my ward. We will see you well situated in life, you should have no fear. Carlisle himself came to Virginia as an indentured servant and I know the restrictions that are placed upon such first-hand."

Actually, Esme had been the daughter of the man who had owned Carlisle's indenture. They had had many difficulties before they were able to act upon their mutual regard. She realized the irony of their son finding himself in a similar situation. Providence certainly had a sense of humor.

"I don't understand. End my indenture? How so? I have not the money to do it."

"Edward will forgive the obligation, my dear."

"No, ma'am." A mulish look descended upon Bella's normally compliant features.

"No?" Esme was surprised.

"I am sure I am very grateful for his generosity but those weren't the terms of my agreement with your sister-in-law. It would be dishonorable of me not to keep my part."

"Surely you can see you cannot continue to live in this house? After what I witnessed this morning, t'would be only a matter of time before your virtue is compromised and that way leads to perdition and disaster for both you and my son."

Feeling her cheeks burn scarlet, Bella stared at her hands and nodded. She knew she wouldn't be able to help herself. Her attraction to Edward was overwhelming and she couldn't imagine it diminishing with time.

Esme studied the girl for a bit. "I have another solution that will allow you to honor your obligation and still achieve the distance needed," she said. "I propose to buy your indenture from my son. You could work out your term in Alexandria and at the end of it have all the comforts you were promised originally."

"What manner of work shall you have of me, ma'am?"

"You can do similar work to what you have done here. Hill, my housekeeper, is getting up in age and finds she has not the strength to do what she once did. In fact, you will be assisting me in accomplishing an onerous chore. I've known for awhile I needed to hire another pair of hands around the house. But there will be a tremendous benefit to me as well. Can you be to me as Angela is to Rosalie? I admire your skill with a needle and I could use your assistance in that capacity for certain."

Bella's nausea turned to stabbing pain. Her common sense told her Esme's suggestion was sound. It would deliver her from the temptation of sinning with Edward Cullen but her heart was tearing in two. Though the work would be the same in Alexandria, in that moment she realized that she didn't want to leave Annapolis. She didn't want to be separated from Edward. But at the same time, her rational mind was telling her that was exactly what she needed to do. Remaining in this household was leading her down a road to a certain and tragic future. Staying here would hurt Edward, as well. As a lawyer, he needed to have as unsullied a name as she did as a dressmaker, perhaps even more so if he wished to garner the best clients.

Esme watched the emotions flitter across Bella's face with great pity. She knew what it meant to be in love with someone she couldn't have. She also knew that patience sometimes won out, as it did for her. She leaned forward and put her hand on Bella's and said, "Have faith that all shall be well one day."

Bella nodded and sighed. "When do I leave?"

"You will go to Alexandria with my husband when he returns there at the end of the week. Edward is leaving forthwith to accompany Mr. Chase to Philadelphia concerning some political matters."

Bella had a knot in her throat and found it difficult to swallow. She couldn't speak so she just looked down at Esme's hand that gently rested upon her own and nodded.

"Truly, Isabella, have patience and do good. I am sure it will all be well in the future."

Bella nodded again as the gracious lady rose. Esme looked down on Bella's bowed head, patted her shoulder and said, "It will be well, child. Have faith." She left to go upstairs and help her equally saddened son pack for his journey.

After a few moments, Bella rose to return to her chores all the while thinking of what Esme had told her. Evidently, it was imperative to Edward and his parents that she and Edward be separated lest they fall into untoward activities that would ruin them both. Shamefully, Bella had to admit, they were probably right. She simply couldn't help herself when she was near him.

She remembered how unhappy Edward had been with Jake when he'd thought the younger man had been trying to "step out" with Bella. At first she'd believed he'd been angry because his sense of propriety had been offended—Bella was a servant and bound to his household, after all. But when he'd told her point blank that he didn't want her thinking about other men and then kissed her, it was obvious he desired her… or was it more?

What was it that he'd said at the time? "_Do you feel as I do, Isabella?"_ But really, what did _he_ feel? Was it simply his ardent manly desires, or could it be affection? He hadn't said precisely.

Upon reflection, she decided he was simply responding to the fact that he was a man and she was a convenient woman. Propinquity was often as good a matchmaker as a debutante's most doting mama. It wasn't that she thought Edward was lackadaisical in his actions. She simply believed it was what a man normally would do. He couldn't help himself. She certainly was not so foolish to think that such a man would see her as a potential wife.

She decided after all that it was a good thing she would be leaving Annapolis. That way her reputation would be preserved and she would be able to look forward to a secure future when her servitude was finally over.

She tried very hard not to think of a future that didn't include being in Edward Cullen's orbit, however. For some reason that thought brought her not one bit of pleasure. In fact, it brought her very close to tears.

* * *

Edward put the finishing touches on a letter then stood at his study's window and looked out on Charles Street to watch for the hired cart to come and take him to Mr. Chase's house. He would spend the night there and then leave with the gentleman early the next morning for Philadelphia.

Under other circumstances, Edward would have greatly anticipated such a trip. To his great pleasure, his mentor was quite active in political debate and he had spent many an enjoyable hour discussing current events with him. There were many in the colonies who were becoming increasingly vocal about the restrictions and taxes Britain had placed upon them. Equally, there were many other colonists who felt that no matter what, it was their duty to serve King George. Debates were often passionate and Edward looked forward to them. He was hoping the trip to Philadelphia would give him many opportunities for discourse.

But at the moment, Edward could only think about how he was soon to be parted from his nightingale. He knew it was for the best. He was thankful his parents had agreed and offered their help. When he'd gone to them earlier, he had been somewhat apprehensive of their reaction. He need not to have feared, however; they quite understood his predicament. It was paramount that Bella's good name be preserved. Under any circumstance, there was no possibility he could court her while she was his servant. It was best that Bella's indenture be bought by his mother thus sending her to Alexandria, away from temptation. God willing, after her three years of servitude, he could approach her as he wished.

He raked his hands through his hair in despair. How he would miss his nightingale! He hated to think of a future without her bell-like voice, sparkling eyes and charming wit. His arms remembered the thrill of holding her, his lips hungered once again for hers and his mind's eye recalled the blissful sight of her glistening skin in the flickering firelight.

"I say, Edward, you look as though someone purloined your favorite dog. What's the bother?" Jasper asked, coming in just then from his daily stint with Mr. Brandon.

Edward shook his head, "'Tis nothing, Jasper, simply a spell of the megrims. What's news with you?"

Jasper flopped down in the nearest chair and grinned, "News? I have news indeed but 'tisn't to be broadcast."

"You know I shall keep your confidences, friend."

"I am glad, for I doubt I could keep it secret from you for long. I am besotted with the most amazing creature."

Edward's first jealous thought was that Jasper was enamored with his Bella but that worry was soon put to rest as Jasper continued, "Her name is Miss Mary Alice Brandon and she's Venus to the life."

Astonished, Edward said, "This is rather a rapid development, isn't it?"

"Edward, I can't explain it. Within almost my first sight of her, my heart was not my own. It makes no earthly sense but at that moment I knew there would never be another lady that I'd care for half as much."

There once would have been a time when Edward would have scoffed at Jasper's infatuation but now he understood exactly what he meant. "You have my most earnest good wishes. How does the lady feel toward you?"

Jasper sat up, a grin on his face and said, "She feels as I do, Edward. She revealed it to me this afternoon. In fact, she said she had been awaiting me for quite a while."

Edward clapped him on the back, "So then, what are your plans? Are you marrying her?"

Jasper's happy expression dimmed. "One day, I hope to. At the moment, though, it will be a clandestine affair. Her father wouldn't approve, I am afraid."

"Why wouldn't he approve?"

"I am not quite the catch he envisions for his daughter. He speaks of giving her a London season. I am sure he has hopes she would marry some upper crust toff over there. You should see him bow and scrape to the crown representative at government house."

"Surely Mr. Brandon is aware of your prospects? He could find no better candidate as a son-in-law." It was a well known fact to most of colonial society that Jasper was the sole heir to his father's considerable shipping concern.

"I wasn't born in the right country to satisfy him, unfortunately."

"Then what shall you do?"

"Why, I shall win him over with my brilliance and charm, of course. It will be only a matter of time." Jasper's light hearted laughter was contagious and Edward found himself chuckling along with him.

"I am glad you are so sure, my friend."

Jasper stood and said, "Edward, never forget that true love will always triumph in the end. I have no doubts of it and you shouldn't either." Though Edward hadn't said a word, Jasper was somehow aware that his friend had been distracted in a peculiar manner. Edward heard the cart arrive and so he took leave of his friend. "I must go. I shall be back in a se'ennight." As though an afterthought, he asked, "Jasper, could I prevail upon you to give this note to Miss Swan?"

Taking it, Jasper said, "Of course. Safe journey, my friend."

They shook hands and parted. Edward had already said goodbye to his sister and parents. He thought it better to write his goodbye to his nightingale. He knew if he faced her again and for such a purpose, it would unman him and he'd renege on all of his sensible decisions.

But it was with a pang in his heart that he shut his front door and climbed into the cart along with his luggage. Despite what Jasper claimed about the ultimate triumphs of true love, he wondered if he would ever hold his Isabella again.

* * *

Jasper clambered down the kitchen stairs to find Bella sitting in front of the fire, sewing a buttonhole in a new bodice for Rosalie. The ladies were preparing their half morning clothes and the fiddly sewing of button holes kept her from thinking too much about other things.

Jasper proved to be a welcome distraction.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Whitlock. 'Tis good to see ye…you." She was trying to rid her vocabulary of words that proclaimed her origins too readily.

"And 'tis good to see ye…you, too, Swanny. Your master has departed and he gave me a commission but alas, I have forgotten what it was."

He was holding Edward's letter in his hand but acting as though he were unaware of it. However, the spark in his eye told her he was in a teasing mood, the rascal.

"Perhaps it may have something to do with what you're holding in your hand, sir?" She grinned and nodded towards the item.

"Oh." He looked down at the letter as though surprised. "Mayhaps you're right. I wonder who it is for?"

"Certainly my master wrote the direction on the front?"

Peering at the elegant writing, he said, "So it does. It says 'Miss Isabella Swan.' Do you think he meant my dear Swanny?"

"Seeing as 'tis my name, I would think so. There is no one else on earth who names me _Swanny_ as you do, sir."

"Hmmmm. Do you know, Edward misremembered to pay his emissary? I am not sure I can complete the task set for me if I am not rightfully recompensed." The twinkle in his eye belied the worried look on his face.

"And I know just the thing that would mark that paid in full, sir. I believe a slice of honey cake would pay the tariff."

Jasper gasped in delight, "That would be just the ticket, Swanny, a slice of cake in trade for a love letter."

Bella blushed deeply. Love letter? Surely not. Edward was probably giving her last minute instructions for the running of the house while he was gone. How could Jasper be so foolish to say such a thing?

However, though Jasper had been teasing Bella, he was surprised at the brilliant color the maid turned when he named the note a love letter. He remembered Edward's seemingly moony mood lately and speculatively studied the sealed letter. Was this note inspired by Eros rather than by Hestia, as he had first assumed? Oh ho, what a conundrum!

With a smile and a bow, he handed the missive to Bella. Perhaps it was better that Edward had left Annapolis. Jasper thought too much of the both of them, master and maid, to wish that a scandal should befall them.

Bella quickly took the note and thrust it into her apron pocket. "Now, would you like a cup of tea with your cake, sir?"

Jasper stayed a bit and joked with Bella as he ate his second treat of the day—Bella made sure to remind him that she was keeping count. Meanwhile, the letter from Edward felt as though it was an increasingly heavy weight in her pocket. The longer she waited to read it the heavier it seemed, but she wouldn't have a moment to herself until after supper.

Finally, the moment came: long after supper, long after the kitchen was cleared away, long after the bones had been put on the boil and the shutters shut and doors locked. Bella was at last able to perform her nightly ablutions and to crawl into bed. The soft glow of a candle illuminated her as she sat up against the pillows. With trembling hands, she broke the seal on the letter and leaning close to the candle read:

_My Dear Miss Swan,_

_First, I must apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior this morning. I don't regret that I embraced you, for that was as heaven will be for me, but that I neglected to ask permission from you first. Please forgive this penitent man. My only excuse is that I was so carried away by my feelings for you, I could not help myself._

_And I do have feelings for you, Miss Swan. I can only hope that you return them. Perhaps I could read that you do by your response to my impetuosity? I truly hope that I can._

_I wish our positions in life were such that I could proceed, if you were willing, in a normal manner. I would approach your guardian and ask if I could pursue a courtship with you. Then, given permission, I could act as Mr. McCarty and my sister are now; morning visits, afternoon strolls, and family dinners, thus giving us the time to prove our love until we would both be sure of our hearts and desires._

_Alas, our positions as they are put us in peril. I am both thankful for your indenture and I curse it. I am thankful for it because had you not taken the offer my aunt made you, we would have never met. I curse it because it means I cannot follow my desires as I earnestly wish. As the holder of your indenture, it is my duty to protect and provide for you in exchange for your dutiful service. It is hard to admit that what I must protect you from the most is myself. That shames me._

_This morning after our moment of bliss, I reminded myself of my responsibility to you and I realized that we cannot continue as we are without eventually there being consequences that would blight your reputation and make your life a misery. That is the last thing I'd wish for you, my dear Miss Swan. You deserve the highest regard of all who have the privilege of knowing you._

_The only solution would be to end your indenture and find a guardian for you so that I might court you properly. My mother reports, however, that simply forgiving your indenture was not acceptable to you and so she therefore offered to buy your indenture herself. I wish you would reconsider my offer, Miss Swan, but I do understand your point of view. I know that were I in your situation, I would insist upon the same. Honor permits no other recourse._

_So, I hope your journey to my mother's house is safe and that you enjoy what you find in Alexandria. I shall not hold you to any sort of commitment to me, for I realize that three years is a long time and you may decide in the intervening years that you desire another sort of life than what I can offer. By that time, I will have completed my journey to self-sufficiency, God willing. But as of this moment, I rely on other sources than myself to keep afloat; therefore, I cannot ask you for anything other than your friendship and kindness._

_God Bless you, my dear Miss Swan,_

_Edward Cullen_

**AN: **

_**Contre temps **_**French for contrary times/bad situation.**

**Megrims - headache**

**Of course you know who Eros was but Hestia was the Greek goddess of the home and hearth and housewives.**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow**

* * *

_Dear Mr. Cullen,_

_It has taken me some days to find the words to write to you. They were as moths fluttering around my head and though I tried several times to catch them and put them to paper in a sensible manner, they eluded me until now. Mayhap they still escape me for I am yet not sure I can make sense of my jumbled thoughts and feelings._

_I cannot describe the emotions that coursed through me as I read your most kind and considerate letter. I was all at once amazed, exultant, and saddened. _

_I was amazed because I could not understand how one such as I could draw the notice of one such as you and in such a way. I had been sure you thought the less of me after my indelicate response to your attentions the day of your departure. To find that I had not lost your esteem was a relief. And then you ask me my forgiveness, as though you transgressed against me? Sir, you did not transgress. _

_Dare I read in your letter that you could consider me, if our positions were more equal, as someone with whom you would hope to share a future? This is beyond any dream that I have dared in my wildest imaginings, for you are such a fine gentleman and I am but a seamstress at best. And yet, the fact that you have feelings for me that inspire such consideration causes me to rejoice and then regret._

_If I were a lady, I would gladly welcome your notice with a willing heart and open arms. I could not imagine a better or more joyous life than one shared with you._

_But I regret, sir, that I am not a lady. I do not deserve such consideration. You were wise to recognize that and send me away. I thank you that you saw me placed into a comfortable household amidst people who have proven themselves to be of sterling character and kind hearts. I promise I will serve them with the same dedication that I have served you. I will never give you reason to lament your generosity._

_Sir, I will always hold you in my heart no matter where our paths lead us. I will never forget the golden weeks I lived here with you in Annapolis. I shall every day pray to our merciful God that He bless you all the days of your life. _

_Your very humble and grateful servant,_

_Isabella Swan_

She folded the letter and sealed it, then placed it on Edward's desk in his study. It would be waiting for him when he returned to Annapolis later that week. Tomorrow morning, however, she was leaving for Alexandria with Edward's father, to start her new life once again.

She knew she should be happy that she would be staying in such comfortable circumstances but she could not escape her overwhelming sense of misery. It was as if a hole was now where her heart had been. Were it not for the pain, she was sure she'd feel as empty as a beggar's purse.

She slowly descended the stairs to the kitchen. It was at that quiet part of the day when chores were finished and supper was cooking. She knew she needed to distract herself from her unhappy thoughts. As the spring weather was fine, she decided to go out into the yard. The fresh air and warm sun should soon lift her spirits.

She pulled a few weeds in her bourgeoning gardens and thought back on her time here in Maryland. How happy she had been here. She put her hand over the pocket of her skirt and felt the letter she now kept there. She had read it so frequently over the past week, she could quote it by heart. Even though she knew her future would not include Edward except in the most cursory way, the fact that he had cared for her brought her some solace.

She was startled out of her somber thoughts by a merry voice, "Isabella!"

She turned to see her old friend, Jessica Stanley, at the kitchen door and she smiled happily and arose, brushing the dirt off her hands.

"Jess! My stars, 'tis good to see you. I didn't know you'd arrived." Bella said to her friend as they embraced, all smiles.

"My mistress is visiting the ladies of the house and I had leave to come below to sit with you."

"Oh, we have company! I'd best get the kettle on." Bella grabbed Jess' hand and both went into the kitchen. Bella bustled about getting the tea and cakes ready for the Cullen ladies' and their guest.

"So tell me, how have you fared since we parted at the docks all those weeks ago?" Bella asked as she worked.

"I am most happily settled with Miss Brandon. She's a jolly lass and 'tis actually enjoyable waiting upon her. These seven years will pass quickly, I think."

"We are both lucky in our servitude, Jess. I believe one of my gentlemen is a student of Mr. Brandon's. Have you seen him? Mr. Jasper Whitlock?"

"Aye." Jessica's eyes sparkled. "We've been seeing a lot o' him these past weeks. In fact, I think my mistress is fond of him."

"Ah?" Bella smiled to know that her Mr. Jasper's affections might be returned by the object of his desire. Mayhap their love affair would prosper, whereas hers…what was she about? _Stop it, Isabella. You'll be sorry if you keep dwelling upon these impossible fantasies._

A moment later, Angela rushed down the stairs and said, "Mistress wishes tea and cakes, Miss Isabella."

"I've already got the kettle on, lass. You get the plates and I'll slice the cake." The two maids busily prepared a tray for the ladies. When all was done, Bella put it in the dumb waiter and Angela scurried up the stairs to serve it. When that was done, Bella cut a piece of cake for her friend and sat at the table with her, sipping her own tea as Jess took her first bite.

"Ohhhh, Isabella, this is right tasty. Where did you learn to bake like this?"

"Why, I learned at my mother's knee and I kept house for Mrs. Cope."

"So therefore you keep the house here?"

"I do."

"I thought you were to be a dresser for two young girls coming out this year."

"So did I, but when I arrived I discovered to my dismay that all the ladies had passed away while I was journeying here. I found I was now beholden to Mrs. Cullen's nephew, Mr. Edward Cullen. He had no need of a dresser but a terrible great need for a housekeeper. Imagine two bachelors living here by themselves? It was a right disaster! I offered to step in and he was gracious enough to accept me."

"Are you well pleased with the change?"

"Indeed I am. I wish I were staying, though. Tomorrow, I leave for Alexandria to work for Mr. Cullen's parents. That's where I shall be serving out my time."

"Oh, Isabella! Why would you leave? You are needed here!"

"Apparently, I am needed more there. Who am I to tell them where I should work or not? I am bound to them for three years, whether here or in Alexandria. It matters not."

She tried to keep her voice as disinterested as possible lest Jessica winnow out her secret. By mutual agreement, she and the Cullens had decided to tell the curious just what she told her friend. To be strictly honest about this matter would do the exact opposite of what they were striving for—preserving Edward's good name as well as her own.

"Oh, and I was so looking forward to meeting with ye upon occasion." Jess sounded a bit forlorn.

"I know, Jessica, but it can't be helped. P'raps we could write?"

"But I don't know how."

"I could write an intermediary?"

Jessica sighed, "I wouldn't know whom to ask, Isabella."

The girls were quiet for a bit until Jess spoke up changing the subject, "But say you, have you heard the terrible news about Lauren?"

"I hardly hear anything, to be honest." She was loath to gossip, though Emmett had told her about Lauren's expectant situation. Perhaps Jessica had heard about that, as well.

"Well, it's horrible, it is! Yestereve, she was found in the road near the farm she lived, close to death! She had been set upon by a fiend."

Bella gasped. She wasn't expecting this news. "Heaven help the poor girl! How does she fare?"

"They took her to the farmer's house to try to save her but she was beyond healing. She died this morning."

Bella put her tea cup down rattling the saucer from her shock. "Dear Lord! Such a tragic tale. Who would have hurt her like that?"

"We know him, Isabella. It was one of the crew from _The Patience_, Mr. James. Remember him?"

A cold wave of fear cascaded down Bella's spine. "Aye, I do remember him but I thought he was in Philadelphia, not here. Have they caught him then?"

"No, they only know who he was because Lauren was able to reveal it before she passed." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "And Bella, Lauren was in the family way! Imagine that! 'Twas Mr. James who fathered her babe whilst on our journey. Word got back to Captain Laurent of what he had gotten up to on the voyage so he was sacked from his position. She said he was getting even with her for ruining his position. She warned he hadn't finished with his purpose as there were others he blamed as well as Lauren."

"Poor, poor lass. He can't touch her now."

"No, not again, but I am wondering with whom else he had a grievance?"

Bella shook her head, not wishing to reveal that she may be one of them. Thankfully, she'd be gone tomorrow, out of James' reach. Perhaps Providence was again playing a merciful role in her life after all.

Angela reappeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Miss Isabella, Miss Brandon is ready to leave. Mrs. Cullen asks that you both come upstairs," she reported.

Bella was so shaken by Jessica's news so she gave little thought as to what Mrs. Cullen's intention was to call her upstairs at the moment. She was surprised upon entering the sitting room to have Esme say, "Oh, Isabella, have you met, Miss Brandon? Her father is Jasper's law master."

Sitting daintily in one of the slipper chairs was a dark-haired beauty, whom Bella guessed to be the object of Jasper's desire. It was unusual to be introduced to their guest, to say the least. As a servant, Bella's duty was to wait upon the ladies and theirs was simply to be catered to. She wasn't supposed to interject herself into their conversations and they, in turn, were supposed to treat her with as much notice as they'd treat a piece of furniture. Esme was changing the rules.

After a moment's hesitation, Bella curtsied to Alice and said, "A pleasure, miss."

"I've heard much about you, Swanny." Alice said with a smile.

"And I hope you didn't believe half of what you heard. I fear your source is as full of whimsy as wit."

"How do you know who was my source?"

"Because there is only one in the world who names me 'Swanny' so I infer Mr. Whitlock has been telling tales."

With a delightful giggle, Alice responded, "Aye, so he has but all in your praise. I understand you are leaving for Alexandria tomorrow."

"I am. Mr. Carlisle Cullen and I are going by coach."

"I travel to Alexandria now and again. I shall be sure to stop to see you when next I visit."

Bella curtsied, "I will be delighted when you do, Miss Brandon."

"Oh, please, call me Alice and I shall call you Isabella, unless you prefer Swanny. From what Mr. Whitlock has told me of you, I know we shall be great friends."

Bella was surprised at Alice's exuberance but Esme and Rosalie stood there smiling as though they encouraged the friendly relationship between the two. Alice took her leave and Bella returned to the kitchen to get supper ready for the family. Her busyness soon took her mind off of Lauren's tragedy, Mr. James' threat, and the curious acceptance of the Cullen ladies.

The next morning had Bella up early and standing with Mr. Cullen on the porch as they both said their goodbyes to the Charles Street household. It had been decided that once Bella got to Alexandria, Susan, the dresser for Esme and Rosalie would come to Annapolis to take care of the ladies. Angela would take over Bella's housekeeping duties under the close direction of Rosalie and Esme.

Too soon, she found herself seated upon the stage coach and a strange sense of melancholy settled upon her. A most foreboding feeling had come over her as she said goodbye to her new friends. In fact, they felt more than friends to her, they were like family; and Edward—how her heart ached at the thought of him—was more than family to her. It was as though he were a vital part of her being. Parting from him was like having an arm removed, or her heart cut out.

Bella turned her face to the window so that Carlisle couldn't see her tears.

She didn't notice the familiar greasy face watching her departure from the shade of an old shed near the coach house. The skulking man glared at the coach as it pulled away.

"Leaving are you?" he muttered to himself. "And I was just contemplating how I should waylay you here. But don't worry, little bird. The chase only makes the conquest all the sweeter."

* * *

Edward stared moodily out of the study window. It seemed that was all he ever did these five days since he'd returned with Mr. Chase from Philadelphia. Though he had an intellecutally stimulating time in that colonial city, he felt hollow when he returned home. He drifted aimlessly through his days, mourning the loss of his nightingale.

He would arise in the mornings and break his fast, then spend a good portion of the day in Mr. Chase's study or at court. Afterwards, he'd come home, eat supper, sit and try to read in his own study only to count the minutes before he could retire to bed. It was a good night when he dreamed of her. The next day, he'd arise and do the same over again.

He knew exactly what was wrong with him—he was in purgatory.

He missed his nightingale with every atom of his being and reread her letter more times than he could count. She had said in it that she was confused. She wasn't alone in that. Her letter brought him joy to find that she cared for him. But it also brought him sadness since it indicated she believed he'd sent her away because she wasn't good enough for him. That hadn't been the point at all. She had needed protection from him until he was free to court her. He couldn't trust himself around her and he loved her too much to drag her down into the mire of ill-repute.

He had tried to think of a way to tell her that, to correct her misapprehension but he was not at leave to write directly and he couldn't ask his mother or Rosalie to write for him. He didn't want anyone but Bella to know the state of his heart. Moreover, it would be considered inappropriate for them to exchange letters since they weren't courting, indeed, by their stations they weren't even able to lawfully do so.

He was at a loss and fretting. Perhaps he could write one letter to her and seal it within a letter addressed to his father? But that would give his father the right to read the thing and that brought him back to the beginning of his coil.

In frustration, he decided to get out of the house and take a stroll. Maybe enlightenment would occur during the walk. He grabbed his hat and was soon striding up the street and heading towards the city docks. There was always a bustle there no matter what the time of day. Perhaps that would distract him from his internal struggle.

As he passed the street Emmett lived upon he was hailed by that stalwart fellow.

"Hallo, Edward!" Emmett called as he clamped his hat on his head and jogged over to where Edward waited on the corner.

"Hello, friend. We missed you these past few days." Emmett had gone out of town on business so as a consequence, hadn't been seen on Charles Street.

"I'd some business that took me out of town and I have just arrived home. It isn't too late for me to call on your sister, is it?"

"Not at all. The ladies are sewing in the sitting room. I know Rosalie would be delighted to see you."

"As I would to see her." Emmett's eyes twinkled at the thought but then a shadow crossed his face. "I would also like to speak to Miss Swan, as well, if I may?"

"Miss Swan?" Edward asked in surprise, "Why so?"

"I heard some news on my travels that concerns her."

"Oh? May I ask what it is?"

"There was a sailor on _The Patience_ that was relieved of his duty due to his frequent interference with the women passengers aboard. Now he seeks to claim vengeance on his victims in retribution for his sacking."

"How would that concern Miss Swan?"

"She was one of his victims."

Seeing the look of horror crossing Edward's face, he hurriedly added, "Else, she would have been had I not been there to intervene. But I understood that Mr. James threatened her later. I knew he had disappeared from Philadelphia but I had some news that he is near to Annapolis now. One of the women he so used was found dying in a roadway outside of town. She was able to identify her attacker with her last breath. I am worried for Miss Swan's safety."

A cold hand gripped Edward's heart but he was able to say, "She's no longer in residence here."

"What?" Clearly, Emmett was not expecting that.

"Miss Swan has removed to Alexandria this week."

"Really? Why?"

"Her work was more needed there by my mother and father." Edward shrugged as though to say he didn't understand his parent's vagaries.

"Well, then she's out of James' clutches now, that is if Mr. James stays in Annapolis but he walked here from Philadelphia seeking his revenge. Alexandria is much closer to Annapolis than Philadelphia is. He could walk there as well."

A cold fear gripped Edward's heart. He had to be doing something about this danger and do it immediately.

"Thank you for telling me this, Emmett. Now, pray excuse me. I must be off." And with that Edward doffed his cap and left, leaving Emmett staring after him in confusion at his sudden departure.

Fear spurred Edward's feet and had his heart in a vise. His nightingale was in danger. He must do whatever was in his means to protect her. His first step was to head for the chief constable's house. He had some questions to ask.

* * *

"So you think he's left town?"

"Aye. We found the abandoned tobacco barn wherein he had stayed in while he was lying in wait for Miss Mallory, poor soul; but there is no evidence he's been there since."

"Are you sure he's left the area?"

"I've had a man to watch the barn in case he should return but to no avail. I sent word out, too, in case anyone might see him in port or on the turnpike, and just this morning a drover reported seeing a man of his description walking westward several miles out of town. All indications point to him heading away."

The constable's words twisted in Edward's gut. He felt sure that somehow James had discovered Bella's whereabouts and was on his way to take his revenge upon her. He must not let that happen. He would not let that happen.

He thanked the constable and stopped by Mr. Chase's requesting a short leave of absence and then by the docks to purchase a ticket to sail to Alexandria on the next tide.

He would save his nightingale any way he could. He just hoped he wouldn't be too late.

**AN: I am dedicating **_**Nightingale**_** to a lady that I met through fanfiction and the thoughtful and intelligent comments she made about my stories starting with **_**The Mail Order Bride.**_** In fact, I think I can credit that her recommendation of **_**The Mail Order Bride**_** to others is what led to most of the notice my work has gotten in the fandom. Though she, herself, did not write fanfiction, she was a successful published author of four books. She was working on the fifth when she was diagnosed with an incurable disease that was putting a period to her life way too soon. She wrote because of her short time she was leaving the fandom but would continue to read a few stories to see how they ended. I never got a chance to say goodbye but noticed that **_**Nightingale**_** was on her favorites list, so if by chance she is still reading, Miss Queenie also known as Kyusetuki in Oki, this is for you with love from one of your fans and grateful authors.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 16: In Flagrante Delicto**

* * *

He had found a decrepit house in the woods outside of town. It was more of a shack really, but it would keep the late spring rain that was now falling off of his head. He'd picked some berries growing wild in a thicket and ate as many as were ripe. He knew they wouldn't be enough to completely satisfy his hunger but they were better than nothing. Fortunately, the weather was mild and he had no need of a fire. It would just draw unwanted attention his way and that was dangerous. He was angry that the harlot in Maryland didn't die as he had intended—lingering in pain and dying alone, unheard and unmourned. Much to his disgust, the slattern had lived long enough to tell tales, naming him as her destroyer.

He picked up a stick from the dirt floor, broke it in two and threw the pieces through the open doorway in vexation. He'd have to watch his back now, knowing the constable in Annapolis had sent word near and far reporting his misdeeds. He was a wanted man and if he was caught, he knew he'd be hanged for a murderer. It wouldn't do, especially since he was so near to his next object of revenge: that little seamstress who'd spoiled his game on _The Patience_. When he had done her in, he'd make the long trip to Pennsylvania to find that German slut. He'd make them all pay, every one of them.

It had been a stroke of luck that he had witnessed the seamstress leaving on the Alexandria bound coach. He had followed her, of course. The walk from Annapolis had taken him five days. His progress had been slowed by the extra measures he had used to remain undetected. All he needed to do now was find Isabella Swan and then...

A sudden snuffling noise brought him out of his dark musings and he sat up straight, all senses alert to the potential danger. No man made such a noise but there were wild animals that did and most likely to be as hungry as he was. He slowly stood as the noise drew closer. Looking around on the floor of the hovel, he picked up a thick branch among those that had been strewn there and stood ready to defend himself from whatever was coming.

He was set to pounce when the ugliest dog he'd ever seen appeared in the doorway and stood stock still, seemingly as surprised to find the man there as much as the man was surprised to see the dog. The two stood there, each waiting for the other to make a move. The animal appeared to be some sort of sheep dog. It had mottled, thick fur and one of its ears was cock-eyed. As a matter of fact, one of its eyes was cock-eyed, too. It walked with a limp and the scars of a hard life marred its hide.

The dog stared at the man for a bit and finally having come to some sort of conclusion, grumbled a low, "Arrooof!" as it trotted past him and curled up on a pile of leaves in the far corner of the shack. It kept its eyes on the man, though.

"So, I've intruded upon your den, have I?" the man muttered as he lowered the branch. "'Tis big enough for the both of us, I reckon." With that he settled back down on the floor and leaned against the wall. He would sleep this day through and see what he could discover in the night. With luck, he'd soon learn the Swan woman's whereabouts. He tipped his bedraggled hat over his eyes and folded his arms across his empty stomach, which growled with hunger. Maybe he would find some unwatched food as well.

* * *

Bella held her market basket in one hand as she lifted her skirts with the other to avoid dragging them in the puddles the rain had left in the road. The market was busy and bustling and reminded her of another one that had happened an eon ago and an ocean away. So much had changed since she had heard the agent's florid descriptions of Mary-land as a demi-paradise. She had known he had been exaggerating at the time but she had to admit she was now as close to heaven as she'd ever been, but for her aching heart. She missed Edward so.

She had been in Alexandria for over a week and still was bemused at her situation. Firstly, when she and Edward's father arrived at the Cullen house, she was surprised to find she was put in a bedroom on the same floor as the family. Hill, the housekeeper, claimed that her chamber had been assigned to her by Mrs. Cullen.

When she protested to Mr. Cullen, he told her, "Your role here will be more as family factotum than servant. Mrs. Cullen does not want Mrs. Hill to feel as though she is lacking, so to spare her feelings, your role will be the same as Rosalie's was when she was in residence. Mrs. Hill will explain to you what comprises those duties. And, I believe Mrs. Cullen had quite a catalogue of sewing projects for you, as well. Your days here will be busy, if I know my wife's tastes in female fripperies."

Bella smiled in amazement recalling the discussion and subsequent list Mrs. Hill gave her concerning her new responsibilities. She would be busy all the day long with the marketing, sewing, and receiving of guests when Mr. Cullen was unavailable. She was surprised to see that some of the dresses she was being asked to stitch were for her own use. Mrs. Cullen wrote that as her position was now exclusively above stairs, Bella would be representing the family and needed to dress the part.

Mr. Cullen asked her if she would join him for meals as he missed his lively family and had no wish to eat alone. Her tender heart found it hard to refuse to be an antidote to his loneliness so she agreed. She soon found it to be the best part of her day. Mr. Cullen used the time to inquire as to her activities on behalf of the family and was able to give his opinion when he supposed it would be helpful. They also had spirited discussions about the news items he read in his daily journal.

Bella discovered that Mr. Cullen was a perceptive and canny gentleman, and his world view was interesting. She had never paid much mind to politics as she had felt so much of it was far removed from her daily life. But through Mr. Cullen's tutelage, she could now see how decisions made half a world away without proper thought or care impacted every person's life in the colonies, and became a terrible burden. It was no wonder colonists were beginning to protest their lack of representation in London. She wondered what would come of it.

When a letter came from Annapolis, Mr. Cullen was always kind enough to share the news with her. The letter was usually from Mrs. Cullen so Bella heard that, despite her young age, Angela was doing well in her place and that the Volturis were daily visitors. Rosalie and Mr. McCarty's courtship seemed on a steady course and Esme thought the summer would end with a wedding, all things going well in that direction. Bella also heard that Edward seemed down in the mouth. His mother was concerned that his appetite wasn't what she was used to and she hoped he wasn't sickening for something. Bella had bitten her lip and frowned at that.

Sometimes, Mr. Cullen would tell Bella stories of his youth and how he arrived in the colonies more than thirty years ago when he was but a lad of fourteen. Bella liked those conversations most of all. Learning about Edward's family taught her a little more about the man himself and what made him who he was. She felt closer in spirit to him even though the distance between them kept them from temptation.

As she walked through the market that morning and looked at the various items available for barter, she thought of the tale Edward's father had told her the previous night. They had finished their supper, and instead of taking his port into the study, Mr. Cullen had elected to sit at the table with Bella. He seemed to enjoy her company, an inclination she was very grateful for, as he was both a charming and knowledgeable conversationalist. She noticed as they spoke together, his accent would more and more frequently betray his birthplace. She supposed her own was a bad influence upon his.

The previous night, Mr. Cullen had leaned back in his chair, holding his wineglass in his hand and said, "When I was but a lad of eleven, I and my younger brother, Thomas, were apprenticed to a carpenter in Bristol.

"The work was grueling and our master was brutal, often beating us for no reason other than pure malice. Some grew stronger from such attentions but others became weaker. I was the former but, unfortunately, my brother was the latter. I spent many days trying to cover for Thomas' physical inadequacies, something he had no control over. If one of us didn't finish our daily tasks, we'd both be beaten and sent to bed without supper.

"Our master frequently threatened to sell our apprenticeships to the chimney sweep, declaring that neither one of us was worth the crust of bread he fed us. I knew I would not be a good candidate for a sweep as already I was growing into my adult size but poor Thomas was always small for his age. He was in great danger of that fate."

"But surely a new apprenticeship would be better than the cruel one you had with the carpenter, Mr. Cullen."

"No, my lass. 'Tis a terribly hard life chimney sweeps lead. Many die in the chimneys they are tending by being overcome by the fumes or stuck in a space too small for them. Sweeps spend half the night coughing up the soot they inhale during the day. If a lad had bad lungs, they got worse and they soon sickened and died. In our case, I was too large but Thomas was too weak. I knew it would be the death of him and I couldn't let that happen.

"One evening, I overheard our master tell his wife that he was selling Thomas to the sweep the next day. I knew I had to act quickly, so after he and his wife went to bed, Thomas and I stole out of the garret where we slept and crept out of the house. Once outside, we ran as fast as we could to the harbor and stole upon the first ship we found tied up at the docks.

"We carefully avoided being seen by the night watch and were able to hide in the small boat that was kept upon the deck."

"Why would there be a boat on the deck, sir?"

"It was used to travel between the ship and land or another boat when the vessel was asea."

Nodding, she had waited for him to continue.

"We tucked ourselves under the canvas that was stretched over the craft and stayed there until we were sure we were several leagues away from port. I had been able to bring a bottle of water and some bread to keep ourselves until it was safe to come out from our hiding place. But when we finally did show ourselves, we were almost thrown overboard. The captain didn't take too kindly to stowaways but, fortunately for us, someone pointed out that he could sell our indenture once we reached the colonies. He made a tidy profit when he did as there was no middleman expecting his share.

"Once we arrived in Alexandria, it didn't take long before our indentures were sold, happily both of us to the same man, who turned out to be Mrs. Cullen's father."

Bella's eyes had widened. "Truly?"

"Aye. Esme was already a beauty even at the age of only a dozen years. I fell in love with her at first sight, I am certain. She was the apple of her father's eye and I was indentured as well as being very young myself. Sharing a life with Esme seemed an impossibility, didn't it? Yet, look at where we are now. Patience was a virtue for us and eventually our dreams were realized in the most brilliant manner possible." Then he had smiled fondly, his eyes gazing into the distance as he remembered.

"Esme's father ran a merchandising and warehouse trade; in fact, it is the same business that I operate to this day. He was kind but fair. Both Thomas and I prospered under his care. We had some rudimentary knowledge of letters and numbers but not enough to be useful, so he took it upon himself to teach us. We needed to know such to be of service to him. Fortunately, we both took to those pursuits readily and became valuable to our master sooner rather than later.

"I enjoyed the work but Thomas did not. Once he learned to read, that's all he ever wanted to do. I am not surprised that you found such a variety of books in the attics of his old house. A book was always his most valuable companion.

"When I turned twenty-one, my master declared our servitudes at an end but we had become so valuable to his enterprise that he hired us to stay on and so we did. We didn't realize it at the time but he was sick and within a half year he was dead, leaving Esme as the sole heiress to his fortune.

"There was a year of mourning for the good gentleman. Thomas and I still operated the business for Esme but she now played a directing role. She and I learned much about each other's mettle during that year." Mr. Cullen's lips had twisted in an irrepressible grin and Bella wondered if there had been a war of wills during that time. She smiled as she imagined what that might have been like. She was sure Mrs. Cullen could have led Mr. Cullen a merry dance.

The kind man had continued, "When Esme came out of mourning, she was invited to many entertainments and since I was also a free man, frequently I was invited, as well. Thomas would attend occasionally but he still preferred his books to an evening's frivolity.

"Incidentally, also in town on an extended visit was Edward's Aunt Abigail, but of course she wasn't his aunt at the time. She was both young and appealing and accustomed to her own way. Her parents had sent her to Alexandria with a chaperone to stay with some cousins for the social season and they hoped she'd come back engaged to be married or already wed.

"Curiously, she had her sights set upon me as her future spouse, but I was completely unaware of her hopes. Esme was all I could think of and I couldn't abide the time I had to wait until I could court her. To me, Abigail was simply another face in a sea of unremarkable _coquettes_.

"The night Esme and I announced that we were to be wed, through her aunt who had come to stay with her after her father died, Abigail stormed out of the celebration in high dudgeon. Her behavior surprised me greatly but Esme, not so much.

"Once our indenture was over, Thomas and I had moved from this house, which belonged to Esme's father, into a small house on Duke Street. We hired a woman to come in to care for the place and prepare our meals but she didn't live with us. We were two bachelors alone and we were quite comfortable in our situation."

Mr. Cullen now paused and met Bella's eye, "I am telling you about events that would be far better forgotten but I want you to understand the ins and outs of our family. I trust your discretion in not passing on the story in idle chatter as it does not speak well of the dead."

"Of course, Mr. Cullen, I would never betray your confidence."

"I know, lass, I know."

He'd picked up the thread of his story then, and continued, "I've told you about how Thomas and I lived once we had become our own masters so that you will understand what happened next.

"After the engagement was announced and long after Thomas and I had gone to bed, Abigail stole into our little home and into what she supposed was my bed chamber. She quietly disrobed and got into bed next to its sleeping resident. There, she stayed the night through. Her intention was to be found in a compromising position with _me _and thus force me to dissolve my engagement with Esme and into a marriage with her.

"Abigail's chaperone found a note on her empty pillow early that morning explaining falsely that the 'mutual passion we felt for each other caused us to throw discretion to the wind and act upon it.' She referred to her partner in this mutual yearning as 'Mr. Cullen' forgetting, I suppose, that there were two of us. So, when the hue and cry arose and a contingent of outraged defenders of feminine virtue stormed the little house, it was a surprise to all, including Abigail and my brother, to find her cosseted not in _my_ bed but in _his_."

"Oh, dear!" Bella's eyebrows had steadily climbed her forehead as this farce unfolded. She'd never heard of such a comedy of errors and it would have been amusing had it not been so tragic.

"Oh dear, indeed," Mr. Cullen had affirmed with a nod. "I do believe the person most shocked on that day was my brother. Here he was, roused from a sound sleep and found _in flagrante delicto,_ with a woman whom he had barely known, and accused of something that I am fairly confident had never crossed his mind. Of course, they were forced to marry and went to live in Annapolis. From the few interactions we had afterwards, Abigail seemed to blame me for her disappointment and would have little to do with me or Esme afterwards."

"That is indeed a tragic tale, sir. But dare I hope your brother and his wife found some solace in each other eventually? After all, they had two daughters."

"As to that, I believe Thomas was happy enough in the end. He was able to build up a fine library and wine cellar, his two main enjoyments. We maintained our relationship through letters and the occasional visit Thomas would make to Alexandria. He was Edward's godfather a few years later but after Thomas died, there was hardly any intercourse between our houses, much to my regret.

"But we were very pleased when a letter came a year or more ago inviting Rosalie and Edward to visit their aunt and cousins. In hopes of mending the fences between our two families, my children took advantage of this olive branch and spent a month or two last summer in Annapolis.

"However, it wasn't until they returned home that Rosalie did divulge to her mother her aunt's true reason for the invitation. Evidently, Abigail wanted Edward for one of her daughters. I suppose she felt she would get her own back that way but I doubt Edward would have gone along with her plan. He didn't see his cousins in any other light than as young girls. I am simply relieved she didn't take a leaf out of her own book and slip one of them into his bed in the night to force his hand."

Bella had gasped. "Oh, certainly she wouldn't have done that!"

"Certainly she _didn't _do it, I am very glad to say. The whole episode was a sad chapter in our family's history."

"It was not of your making, sir."

"True, but it affected us just the same. My biggest regret was the distance it put between me and my brother. We had been very close and now, it can never be rectified." Mr. Cullen had frowned, his eyes full of sorrow.

Bella had decided it was time to change the subject to less dreadful topics. She had hated to see the father of her beloved so tortured with sad memories. So, she had asked him how he had faired during the down-pour that day as he had been quite a distance from home at the time, and soon Mr. Cullen was back to his usual even demeanor.

After they had parted for the evening, Bella had spent the rest of the night wondering how her life would have played out had Mrs. Abigail Cullen and her daughters not indulged in the mushroom dish last winter. Most likely, it would have been a very different life indeed than what she led now.

Now, as she wound her way through the marketplace, she speculated on why Mr. Cullen would share such a deeply personal tale with her? And also, she wondered why Mr. and Mrs. Cullen had set her up, for all intents and purposes, to act as a daughter of the family? Were they paving the way for her eventual reunion with their son? Her heart leaped at the thought. Based upon their own history, it appeared they had no prejudice against her origins or station.

She sighed. Mr. Cullen just counseled patience, did he not? Three years would pass, if not quickly, they would pass—and then…? With stars in her eyes, she smiled hopefully.

A small boy stumbled against the day-dreamy Bella as he ran down the street playing a rousing game of chase with a pack of similarly sized urchins, thus recalling her to the here and now. She needed to focus on her chores instead of floating around inside her head with her hopes. There was work to be done and she did not want to disappoint the Cullens and the faith they had in her.

Reading through the shopping list she carried, she saw that Mrs. Hill wanted some seemly vegetables for the noon table that day, so Bella turned her steps to the area of the market where they sold vegetables picked fresh from gardens that morning. She saw a cart filled to overflowing with squash and beans along the edge of the square. Studying the offerings, she reached for one when her arm was grabbed from the other side of the cart. Looking up in astonishment, she saw a familiar, malicious leer.

"Well-a-day, missy, how fortuitous to meet you again." The sneering man clutched her wrist tightly and started to draw her into the shadows of a connecting alley.

"Sir! What are ye about?" Fear gripped her heart as she wrenched away from him, freeing her arm from his grasp. She ungracefully stumbled backwards but was able to keep to her feet.

"I have business with you, don't I? I need to pay back the wrong you done me." He made to reach for her again but Bella spun around to run away from the wicked man. In her haste, she bumped into a woman who was carrying a large basket of cabbages, knocking it out of her hands and tumbling the contents into the street.

"Beg pardon, ma'am," she cried but she didn't stop. She was desperate to get away from that devil. She heard the woman's cursing fade as she ran; her only intent was to get back to the Cullen household as quickly as possible. She well remembered what happened to poor Lauren Mallory. If that evil man got his hands upon her, her fate would be the same as her dead shipmate's.

In a panic, she dashed through the market square and into an alley that would take her directly to the Cullen home. She rushed down the narrow passageway, knowing that just around the corner, she'd be home free. As soon as she turned it, however, she smashed head long into a man who grabbed her arms tightly and abruptly stopped her in her tracks.

"Isabella? What's the trouble?" an astonished voice asked.

Gasping, Bella looked up into the face that had been in her dreams and in her heart these many weeks. Smiling in wonder, relief and joy, she cried, "Edward! You're here!"

With his green eyes blazing, he gazed down at her and said, "I am. I've come for you but why such a hurry, my l-l-lass?"

Suddenly remembering what had just occurred, fear overwhelmed her. She stepped forward and curled into her protector's embrace. "The villain, Mr. James, is in Alexandria. He's promised to do me terrible harm."

**AN: **

_**In flagrante delicto **_**Latin for being caught red-handed, usually concerning sexual hanky-panky.**

_**Coquettes**_** – French for flirtatious women.**

* * *

**Chapter 17: Hidden Treasures**

* * *

Annapolis

Jane stood at her bedroom window and cautiously pulled back the drape. She watched as the servant pulled the Cullen's kitchen door closed and scampered back to her own home for the night. Jane took note that the girl did not lock the door behind her. She had to arrive back at her duties early the next morning before the Cullen ladies and Mr. Jasper awoke and there would be no one to let her in. It was safe enough to leave doors unlocked in Annapolis—usually.

A ghost of a smile curled upon Jane's lips as she planned her evening. Aro, her father, had left for his club and she knew he wouldn't return until the wee hours of the morning and all the gambling was over. She knew that their own servants, Felix and his wife, were asleep from being drunk on the wine they liberally stole from her father's new wine cellar. So, as soon as her mother dosed herself with her nightly laudanum, she'd be at liberty to go exploring.

She let the drape drop. There was much to discover.

* * *

Alexandria

It was raining again. Bella watched the rain drops bead up and drip down the windowpane. The puddles she had skirted in the street the morning before were growing larger due to today's steady showers. The gray skies and pouring rain seemed to echo her mood. She remembered how blithely she had left for the market yesterday dreaming about her hopeful future. She had expected to work her three years until she could be free to respond as a woman in love to Edward's courtship. Her dreams and her heart were flying but she had been willing to be patient.

Then, she had been accosted by Mr. James and suddenly her future didn't look as blissful any longer. Everything had changed and she felt unsure and unsafe.

Edward had come for her, he said. What did he mean by that? She had no opportunity to ask as the threat from James James loomed. Edward had whisked her back to his father's house as soon as she had told him of her danger and then he had left. He'd asked her to promise not to stir from the house until he returned. When he'd finally come back, he had been with his father so a private discussion between them was not possible. The only thing of note he did say last evening was that Mr. McCarty had told him of Lauren Mallory's murder. He had immediately known Bella would also be endangered in turn and that was what had brought him to Alexandria.

Sighing, she got back to the task at hand and, humming softly, began to pick out the basting from the seams of the dress she was making for Mrs. Cullen. It was deep lavender and would complement Esme's beautiful complexion. The merest suggestion of panniers at the hips would accentuate her womanly figure. She had seen panniers in the fashion plates so wide a woman would have to turn sideways to get through a doorway and had thought them the most ridiculous fashion ever. Fortunately, Mrs. Cullen agreed with her. Esme even admonished Bella to keep her skirts narrow enough so that she would be able to sit in any chair she might choose. Brushing her hand over the soft silk skirt, she was pleased with her work and she hoped Mrs. Cullen would be, too. All she had left to do was to set the hem but that would have to wait until a fitting. She wasn't quite sure when that would be.

There was a tap on the door and Edward stepped into the room looking surprisingly shy. He shut the door behind him.

"Miss Swan, I hope I am not intruding."

"Oh no sir, never." She put her sewing down and gazed at him, not surprised that her heart stuttered a bit at the sight. Each time she saw him, she was struck anew by his fine-looking features and figure. He was now in half-mourning, so he was dressed in a grey coat and breeches, with a snowy stock tied at his neck. His normally unruly hair was pomaded into submission and tied in a queue at his neck. Evidently, he had taken a great deal of time with his appearance this day for some reason. He seemed nervous and the color was high on his cheeks. She wondered if he came bearing troubling news. She'd best prepare herself for the worst.

"I wonder if I might have a word of grave importance with you, dear lady?"

_It_ _must be bad news, _she thought, but she said, "Of course you may, sir. I am always at your service."

Smiling hesitantly, Edward took a seat in the chair next to hers and cleared his throat. "I tried to find your assailant yesterday but to no avail. I went to the sheriff and enlisted his aid. He was most eager to help because he recently was in receipt of a letter from the constable in Annapolis with a description of Mr. James and an explanation of his crimes. He was not pleased to know the villain was in Alexandria and was already up to despicable deeds. He soon gathered his men and they searched through the night to try to locate the rogue but it seemed that the scoundrel has disappeared."

His brow darkened as he said, "Until he is found and jailed, Miss Swan, I will not let you out of my sight unless you are in the safety of our home."

"But, Mr. Cullen, how can you do that? My home is now here and yours is in Annapolis."

"I shall take you with me back to Annapolis when I leave here."

"But I cannot, sir. I am obligated to your mother and father as their servant."

Edward reached into his pocket, pulled out a small draw-string pouch and gently placed it on the table next to her. His intense gaze never left her face. "This contains six pounds. I am giving it to you. My parents have most happily and willingly agreed to allow you to purchase your freedom."

Bella was shocked. Pushing back her chair, she arose and stared at the money pouch as though it were a fairy changeling. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

"But, sir," she said, "that is not my money."

"It is, Isabella. I gave it to you."

"I cannot take it."

Edward sighed. He had known this would not be easy. He shut his eyes and bid Providence give him guidance and wisdom. Arising from his own chair, he reached for Bella's hands and held them tenderly in his own_. _

Looking into her eyes he barely whispered, "If I begged you to, would you take it, Isabella?"

Bella's heart beat so hard it hurt. How could she ever deny him anything? But then, how could she accept such a sum from him? "I don't see how I can, sir."

"'Tis an easy thing to do: just take it, go to my father and give it to him in exchange for your indenture."

"But sir, what shall I give _you_ for it? 'Tisn't honorable for me to take your money without giving you something in return. I have nothing that is worth half that much."

Edward took a step closer. He had to be close. It seemed to him he was never close enough to her. "Isabella…" he earnestly looked back and forth between her eyes, then the sweep of her curls across her forehead, down to her lips, and back to her eyes again. His gaze was soft and full of emotion.

"I would marry you, Isabella." It was a whisper, a hope, a plea.

"M…m…marry me?" She was incredulous.

"Yes, everything I have I would then thee endow and there would be no question of you returning share for share, for what would be mine, would also be thine. Those six pounds are but a promissory for our future together. You would not let me forgive the debt; so then, let me help to pay it. Truthfully, I grow too impatient to wait three years to court you and I must protect you now, Isabella. I would take you to my home but only as my wife."

"Mr. Cullen, you overwhelm me."

"Then you have a fair idea of my own feelings these past weeks." He chuckled as he drew her closer and his lips were inches from hers. "Please say that you will. Marry me."

"How can this be?" She was completely befuddled.

"We shall give the six pounds to father. He will then sign over your papers and we will start announcing the banns of marriage this Sunday. In two weeks time, we shall be wed and live together in our home in Annapolis. It will never be my home unless you are there to share. Even two weeks seems too long to wait."

His gaze deepened and he said again, "Marry me, Isabella."

He let go of her hands to clutch her waist and draw her flush against him. "Say that you will marry me."

"I have nothing to bring to you." Her wits were fast disappearing as he drew her in, his lips hovering but a breath from hers, his body now embracing hers.

"You give me everything by just giving me yourself. No treasure on earth could I value more. Please say you will. Marry me."

Impatient of waiting for her answer, he finally pressed his lips to hers and felt her melt against him. He wrapped his arms around her and he promised himself that he would never let her go.

When he felt her arms encircle his neck and her lips responding to his, he was almost sure he had his answer. She would marry him! He tried to continue kissing her but his smile grew so wide his lips wouldn't cooperate.

He leaned back and looked down into her eyes. "Tell me yes, Isabella."

But instead she asked, "Why do you wish to marry me? I don't understand."

His grin faded. Didn't she know?

"I thought I revealed myself to you in the kitchen on Charles Street and then explained further in the letter I wrote you before you left Annapolis but I will gladly tell you again. It wasn't long after we met that I had recognized my enduring passion for you, acknowledged to myself that I loved you, and that I desired to spend the rest of my life with you.

"However, I also had understood your indenture would prohibit it. Since you would not allow me to rescind it, I had been determined to wait until you were a free woman and then, Isabella, I had promised myself that I would court you as no other woman had ever been courted. I would do my best to convince you to accept my suit and my hand.

"My resolution to have patience and wait changed immediately when I learned that dastard, James, promised to harm you. I knew I must act quickly to keep you safe."

He paused and shook his head. "Isabella, I see nothing for it now but for us to marry as soon as may be, 'tis the only way in honor I can take you home with me. 'Tis the only way indeed that I want to."

Edward peered searchingly into his beloved's eyes and a worried wrinkle appeared between his brows. "That is, unless you have no wish to commit yourself to me. Did I misunderstand your letter? Didn't you write that under different circumstances you would _gladly welcome my notice with a willing heart and open arms_? I assumed that meant…"

Bella felt an overwhelming need to comfort him and so she placed her fingers softly on his lips. "Shhh-shhh, sir, don't fret. 'Tis entirely too bold of me to admit it but my heart is truly yours and I believe it will always be. However, I also recall in that same letter I wrote that accepting your suit was a possibility I had considered far out of my reach. Indeed, my heart hasn't changed but neither have my circumstances."

She backed out of his arms and clasped her hands to her bosom. "Mr. Cullen, it doesn't seem honorable or fitting that I should accept that money, no matter what I may wish."

"P'raps you would consider it a loan?"

"But how could I ever repay you? Once wed, I am sure you wouldn't wish me to be setting up shop on Charles Street and 'tis the only way I know to earn my keep."

"That is very true. I am going to be greedy with your time, I'm afraid. Have you anything, even a trinket, which you would allow me to buy from you? If you do, that should soothe your conscience in the matter."

Bella began to shake her head but then she suddenly remembered the necklace Mrs. Cope had given her before she left Portsmouth. "I…I do have something but it isn't worth much. My mistress gave it to me before I left Portsmouth. She had it from one of her ladies in lieu of payment of a commission she had given Mrs. Cope. It's right ugly, and that's God's truth. It would be a daft person who would value it at six pounds."

Edward grinned in relief, a teasing light in his eye. "Don't call me daft this early in our life together, miss. Go fetch it and we shall make our bargain."

A few minutes later, Bella returned to the sewing room with a pouch of her own, "Here the thing is. I doubt you will find any merit in it."

Edward untied the knot and poured the old necklace out into the palm of his hand. "What's this? Pearls? And the metal looks as though 'tis true gold. This could very well be worth more than six pounds, Isabella, much more."

Bella stared intently at the necklace with wide eyes, "But Mrs. Cope said the pawnsman claimed it wasn't worth the string it was strung upon and at most he would give her a few pence for it."

"Did she get another broker's opinion?"

"I don't believe so. She didn't see the point."

"Did you know that some duplicitous pawnsmen tell the unwary their truly valuable belongings are worthless so they can give nothing to the owner and then sell them for a remarkable profit. I am sure he was surprised when your mistress decided to keep the necklace after his valuation. He was most likely counting on making a tidy sum because of her desperation."

Bella looked at the necklace with new eyes and felt hope burgeoning within her breast. "It could be worth my indenture do you think?"

"At least that much, I am certain."

"So Mr. Cullen, will you bargain with me?"

"Aye, my nightingale, that I will."

He put the necklace back in its pouch and then picked up the purse of money and handed it to her. "I shall take the necklace to a jewel merchant and ascertain its true value but just the same, I'll give you six pounds at least for this bauble, more if the merchant proves my conjecture."

"Six pounds even for it, sir, and no more." Bella would be firm on that account. He'd done so much for her all ready.

Smiling he placed the money in her hand and slipped the necklace in to his coat pocket. "Done."

Blushing shyly, Bella clutched the purse and repeated back to him, "Done."

* * *

_My dear wife,_

_Events of a most interesting nature have developed and I know it will bring you great joy to read that Miss Swan has purchased her freedom so that she may marry our son. I congratulate you on your perspicacity, my love, for I believe you foretold these events several weeks ago. The fact that it happened sooner than you expected should bring even more satisfaction to your heart._

_The happy couple plan to announce the banns of marriage for the first time tomorrow, then again the following Sunday, and lastly two Sundays from now and then marry immediately after services in a quiet ceremony in our home. They then plan to take a ship back to Annapolis to begin their life together. I bid you and Rosalie to come to Alexandria so that you both may witness the event and that you have the opportunity to flutter about as the mother of the groom is wont to do. Then, I beg you, stay a while with me to allow our newly married children to enjoy the first blush of marriage in relative privacy. Please invite Mr. Whitlock to join us here for the nuptials, as well. I am sure he would be unhappy to miss them._

_It would not be a surprise to you that our son is ecstatic, even though the whereabouts of Mr. James is still unknown. As he had explained to us those weeks ago, his original intention was to wait the three years Miss Swan owed to us but I knew he would be dissatisfied with that before too much time passed. A man in love cannot bear the weight of time that parts him from his heart's desire. Speaking of which, I count the minutes until you return home to me, my darling. This is a lonely sojourn for me even though I am surrounded by others, but they are not you._

_You likely are wondering how the impoverished Miss Swan could afford to pay her way out of her obligation. You were correct to predict she would be unwilling to accept the money as a gift but it seems she wasn't as impoverished as she believed. Her old mistress had given her a necklace of some worth before she left England but neither of the ladies realized it at the time. In fact, Miss Swan believed it was practically worthless. She offered to sell it to Edward for the price of her indenture. No matter how little it was worth our son would have paid, as you well know. _

_Upon examination of the jewel, he found it certainly to be worth much more than anticipated as he thought the metal was precious. He brought it to our local jewel merchant and wasn't so very surprised to discover the pearls were genuine and the golden letter that adorned it was as pure gold as could be and still hold its shape. Our soon-to-be daughter was surprised to discover the necklace was worth a great deal more than six pounds; it was worth closer to half a hundred. _

_Edward has not decided what to do with it at this juncture, although Miss Swan suggested he send part of it back to her benefactress in England as it could be the answer to that lady's difficulties. Edward took his bride-to-be's desires into consideration but I believe he may decide upon something different._

_As I mentioned earlier, they haven't found that rascal, James James. The sheriff's men discovered a deserted hovel in the forest between here and Mount Vernon that they believed he holed up within but he is now nowhere to be found. We shan't let down our guard until the man is accounted for in order to keep Miss Swan safe. That's a charge Edward is most eager to fulfill. _

_Thus, is all the amazing news from King Street, my heart. I'd best get this in the mail within the hour so it can make the next sailing for Annapolis._

_Yr Servant & Devoted Husband,_

_Carlisle Cullen_

* * *

James laid upon the damp ground and peered through the sheltering bushes at the lawmen that rode down the highway.

"Damn them! Damn them all!" he muttered to his companion who waited silently beside him.

"That harlot must have cried to the authorities as soon as she ran from the market. I missed my chance with her, I did."

When Bella had knocked into the farmer's wife and dumped her cabbages into the road, he had stumbled over one of them and fell and thus had lost sight of his prey. It still made him angry to think of it. But he had been able to filch a cabbage from the debacle so some good had come from his failure.

He rolled over behind a tree and waited until he judged the horsemen were well down the road. Mumbling curses occasionally, he pondered his grim circumstances. Fate had never been kind to him from the moment of his conception.

"We shall wait here a spell, until all danger has passed."

He watched as his companion, the ugly dog from the shack, stretched out at his feet. James found it unexpectedly satisfying to have company after long years of being alone. He discovered that talking to his new canine comrade was actually a cathartic exercise, and strangely fitting given his cursed life. A cur would be the only being to ever hear his memoirs. The dog seemed to absorb every word as he sat still as stone with his head cocked to the side, ears askew, and a look of warm intelligence in his eyes.

"They're all blighters, dog. All of them: the sneering toffs, the fickle women, the lousy masters. 'Tis a take as can world, it is. You'd best get yours because if you don't, _they_ certainly will, you can be sure of that. I learned that from the cradle. They'd have thrown me away if they could, and for all purposes, they did. I was the smear on their name, base born bastard that I was. It seems me mother was no better than a whore and took a slip on the shoulder with some honey tongued English nobleman during her debutante year."

He huffed. "My mam had been destined for great things by her Ma and Pa. Belle of the ball she was… and then up popped I. Fair ruined her life, I did. It's all I ever heard as a young'un. Shuffled to the side I was, hidden away like a dirty rag, treated like I was something they scraped off the boot-jack. Telling me I should be grateful for the scraps of garbage they threw my way. I showed 'em how grateful I was.

"After I was born and shuffled off, my ma's parents cobbled together a hasty marriage to an old stooge. He only saw that she was young and handsome and he didn't know about me or her sordid past. He'd not have married her, else. I'd embarrass them, you see. They kept me a shameful secret. My ma had another brat off the old man and all was well—for them, but not for me. I grew up slopping hogs on a farm in a neighboring county, living in squalor in a dirt floor shack, hungry as not while _they_ lived the high life in a fancy brick house with servants and plenty of food.

"Dog, here's something not a soul living knows but me and now you, and you won't tell, will you, mutt?" He cackled as though he reached the punch line of a joke.

"Listen here, dog—_I burned them alive, I did_. One night when I was barely a stripling, I stole into their house after all had gone to bed. I knocked a lit candle into some rags in the scullery. Me mam and me grandparents all died, burned alive. I'd hoped to get the young'un, and her father, too, but they escaped. The nursery had been in another wing of the house and her husband had been sleeping away from me ma. Afterwards, the old man took the brat and removed to Philadelphia. Later on, after the old man died, my half-sister became useful to me."

He smirked. "So, when I paid a call on the newly married Mrs. Laurent and explained how convenient it would be for her if I was shipped off with her husband, what could she say? Wouldn't do to have me, bastard that I am, traipsing about Philadelphia claiming a connection with her, would it? Would spoil her good name, wouldn't it?

"I had a good thing on _The Patience_. Captain Laurent had suffered to look the other way at my little hobbies. He had to, you see, else I'd spill the truth about his wife's background and that wouldn't do in snooty Philadelphia, would it? It would cost him custom.

He picked up a stone and threw it into the wood and a dark cloud settled over his once gleeful face. "And then on that last voyage, those three harpies conspired to rob me of my place aboard ship. Carrying tales, they did.

Captain Laurent had weighed his choices. Which was worse for him? To admit a connection to a bastard on his wife's side or to gain the reputation of being a captain that winked when his crew interfered with his women passengers? He chose his reputation over his wife's good name, the dastard. If only those women hadn't blabbed. I'd still have my berth.

"I'll get my own by them, you wait and see. I put paid to one of them so far and I'll do it to the rest as well."

He sat there for a while longer stewing in his hate and bitterness until he judged it safe enough to venture forth. He started following the road in the opposite direction the riders had gone. At his heels, the scruffy dog loped after him.

"'Tis too risky for me in these parts now but there is some unfinished business for me in Pennsylvania. I have a visit to pay there as well. And the slut I missed here? She'll keep. Oh, yes, she'll keep well enough and then I shall have my retribution when she least expects it."

He laughed maniacally as he plodded along the road and plotted his revenge on his next victim, the German girl who now lived in central Pennsylvania. He would do her in, he would, and then he'd come back for Isabella Swan and do the same for her.

After that, he could fry in hell himself, it mattered not. He'd have had his triumph. He'd have settled all those old scores and he'd die, if not a happy man, a satisfied one.

"Come on, dog, we've a ways to go before sunset."

**AN:**

**The Banns of Marriage. The banns of marriage, commonly known simply as the "banns" or "bans" are the public announcement in a Christian church of an impending marriage between two specified persons. They were announced from the pulpit three Sundays in a row before a marriage could occur. It was the way of insuring that both parties were free of impediments before they married, like inconvenient husbands or wives. It is commonly associated with the Church of England and with other denominations whose traditions are similar; the Roman Catholic Church abolished the requirement in 1983. (I got some of this from Wikipedia.) The thing about the RCC abolishing the requirement of banns publishing in the 80s is news to me because I got married in the Catholic Church in 1976 and we didn't publish any banns. Maybe I've been living in sin all these years? What do you know? I'm a wench.**

**One of my girls wanted to know how much six pounds was in current values. This is really hard to figure exactly because worth is relative. But anyway using an on line comparison engine, £6 may be worth about $140 today according to the Consumer Price Index and $14,000 according to a skilled wage chart. Workers were not paid well in those days. The necklace would be worth about $1,100. But is **_**this **_**necklace worth only £50? Really? We'll have to see about that.**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Anticipation**

* * *

**Annapolis**

"Your mail, madam."

Covering a yawn with her hand, Esme sat up in bed and took the morning post from Susan. For all the quiet living they'd been doing, she hadn't been sleeping well. She was beginning to realize that she had come to depend upon the familiar weight of Carlisle's arm about her in the night to ensure her restful slumber.

"Thank you, Susan."

She looked at the letter and smiled to see the familiar handwriting of her husband. She missed him terribly and wondered if she could talk Rosalie into visiting Alexandria soon but she knew her daughter would probably not want to go. Rosalie's courtship with Mr. McCarty was progressing well and Esme felt that they'd be planning for a wedding sooner rather than later. She slipped the letter opener under the seal and began to read.

As Esme was thus occupied, Susan bustled about her morning tasks, opening the bedroom windows and stirring the fire. The maid dropped the fire poker in surprise when Esme exclaimed and jumped out of bed. Susan looked at her mistress in wonder.

Waving the letter in one hand Esme exclaimed, "Susan, get out the trunks. Have Angela rouse Rosalie, if she has not all ready done so. We must away to Alexandria as soon as possible. There will be a wedding sooner than I ever dreamed!"

* * *

Jane Volturi's nightly expeditions into Edward Cullen's house fed the over-powering obsession she had for him. She couldn't help herself. From the first moment she had set eyes upon him, she had become fixated. He was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. After spending some time in his company, she had found that his manners and voice matched his appearance. She had become utterly besotted.

She had found herself making excuses to visit Honoria and Constance while Mr. Cullen and his sister had been visiting and had spent as much time with her friends as she had studying him. When her friends had giggled about him, she hadn't participated in their silly discussions but she had absorbed their every word. Once, she had even been able to sneak into his chamber and look through his belongings, careful to put them back as she had found them.

She had been desolated when he left Annapolis the previous summer but had hope that he'd return in the not too distant future. She had overheard Aunt Abigail invite him back the summer when her two daughters were going to be presented to polite society. Her heart had thrilled when she heard Edward say he wouldn't miss it for the world.

Then would be her chance, for she was coming out in the same season and she was by far the prettiest girl in Annapolis, as everyone knew.

It would be so simple. He would become enamored of her once she would be able to spend time in his company as a feted woman. By the end of her debutante season, she would triumphantly become Mrs. Edward Cullen.

It had seemed that the fates were on her side when he had returned to live in Annapolis after the Cullen ladies had died so suddenly. She had taken to sitting in the window in her front parlor, hoping to catch a glimpse of him as he had gone about town. The only fly in the ointment was the fact he had been in mourning for his Aunt and cousins and had not been able to socialize as much as she would like.

Since he had not been at evening entertainments, she had manipulated her mother instead into making daily visits to call upon the Cullen ladies after they had arrived in town. Now and again, she'd see him in passing and he had always been pleasant and welcoming. She had been sure she saw the beginnings of love upon his countenance.

She had been frustrated when he left town on business matters a few days back and then when the ladies followed soon after, she had been aggravated as she no longer had a source of information about him. Though she knew he would be coming back to Annapolis sooner or later, she had to make do with her ghostly visits to his slumbering house for the present.

She nosed about in the darkened house with just a candle, imagining how it would be to preside over his dining room table and chatting in the parlor. In his study, she looked at the book he had left on his desk, studying the cover carefully, and puzzling over the title: _The Works of John Donne_. She'd never heard of the man. She thumbed through a few pages but it seemed comprised of only verses, scandalous ones at that. She read a little bit,

_To His Mistress Going to Bed_

_Come, madam, come, all rest my powers defy,_

_Until I labour, I in labour lie._

_The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,_

_Is tired with standing though he never fight._

_Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glistering,_

_But a far fairer world encompassing._

'_Off with that girdle?' Is_ _the man bidding the lady to disrobe? How indecent_! Jane thought. The poem went on, getting more and more licentious until she couldn't bear to read more. She put the book down with a decided snap.

Ah well, she didn't care what Edward read as long as he kept it and his lasciviousness to himself.

On her nightly visits, she never went further than the first floor of the house as Mr. Whitlock was still in residence and she'd no wish to be discovered in her intrusive pursuits. One evening, she was nosing around on the ground floor and was surprised to find a bowl on the top shelf of the kitchen scullery. The house had been fastidiously kept and everything seemed to be in a sensible place, so why was there a bowl in the scullery among the mops, brooms and refuse containers? This was a puzzle.

Jane pulled a step stool over and climbed on top of it. By stretching as far as she could, she was able to reach the lip of the bowl. She carefully pulled it out and then lowered it to the scullery work table. Tilting the candle so that she could see what it contained, she was astonished to find within a half dozen dried mushrooms. How did _they_ end up in here?

Unexpectedly at that momenet, she heard the door open at the top of the kitchen stairs and steps begin to descend. Her heart hammering, she quickly blew out the candle and put the bowl back on its shelf. She climbed off the stool and hid behind the half opened scullery door. She hoped her black cloak would further disguise her presence.

Peering through the gap between the door and the jam, she could see candle glow gradually illuminating the kitchen but knew she couldn't be seen in the feeble light. She just needed to be still and patient and she wouldn't be found unless the approaching person needed something in the scullery.

Jasper Whitlock entered the kitchen, dressed informally in his breeches, hose and linen shirt. He walked to the storage room opposite from where Jane was hiding and disappeared within. There was a clink of bottles then a moment later Jasper came back out with a bottle of wine in his hand.

Putting the candle stick down on the kitchen table, he used a corkscrew to pull the stopper and then poured himself a generous measure. He sat on a nearby chair and took a large swallow. He stared glumly at his glass for a moment, then cradled his head in his hands and sighed as though all the troubles of Job had beset him.

Soon, the bottle was empty and Jasper's head sunk onto the table. Jane waited until she could hear his snores, then picked up her unlit candle stick. Holding her breath, she gingerly tip-toed by him and quietly left the house. She didn't hardly exhale until she had shut the door behind her and reached the darkness of the yard. That had been a close call. She needed to be more careful in the future.

As Jane quietly passed through her own home to the safety of her bed chamber, she thought about Mr. Whitlock's curious behavior. Usually, the man was jovial and carefree but he looked the opposite this evening. She wondered what sorrow could have beset him? Mayhap she'd discover the cause of his woe on her next nightly jaunt. Or mayhap, she'd learn when Edward was returning home.

Either way, her next clandestine expedition had much for her to anticipate. She couldn't wait.

* * *

**Alexandria**

Bella put the finishing touches on the dress she would wear on her wedding day. She still found it hard to believe that her life was so completely different than she ever dreamed it would be. Within just a few short months, she had traveled across the sea to a new world, had met and had been servant to the man who inherited her indenture, and now just two days away, she would be his wife. Incredible!

She looked at the fine silk fabric of her new gown. She'd never made such a nice garment for herself before but as Esme explained, her role was going to be different and it was important to dress the part. She certainly didn't want to fail Edward by not living up to the expectations of her position as his wife. He had faith in her but she feared he may be a little blinded by the newness of their relationship.

She smiled softly as she thought of the kindnesses he had shown her, especially since she had agreed to be his wife. When he'd venture out, he'd always bring back a little token for her, whether it had been a freshly baked tart from the bakers, or a little nosegay he had picked for her. She was unused to such courtesies.

In person, he had been quick to offer his arm as she walked or to hold her chair as she sat. Esme and Rosalie had come soon after their intentions were announced and a busy two weeks were spent preparing for the wedding. Bella was amazed to find she was welcomed into the family with open arms.

Those were also two weeks of discovery for the young couple. Bella had been delighted that Edward took the same joy in music as she did. After supper, the family would frequently repair to the music room for an impromptu concert. Edward, Rosalie and Esme all played the harpsichord well and the whole family enjoyed harmonizing with their singing. She was surprised when Edward asked her to perform. Though she loved to sing, she hadn't had the training that the Cullens did and she hesitated to appear as a country bumpkin beside them.

One evening after she had demurred yet another request to sing, Rosalie decided to play a meditative tune on the harp. Edward sat next to Bella on the divan and whispered, "Isabella, you have a beautiful voice. I love to hear you sing."

"But whenever could you have heard me? I don't recall ever singing in front of you."

"My dear, you sing at your work all of the time. I often find myself hiding behind the door or secreting myself in the hallway to listen, lest you stop singing upon spying me."

"Sir, I had no notion." She was flummoxed and her cheeks glowed in discomposure.

"Why do you think I call you 'my nightingale?'" he asked as he took her hand.

"I thought 'twas because of my dull, unremarkable person. After all, the nightingale is not so noticeable a bird."

"Far from it. The nightingale is renowned for its beautiful song. The first night I heard you sing was after I had gone to bed and you were in the kitchen still at your work. I had thought the angels were coming to visit, so unearthly sweet did you sound. 'Twas that evening, my dear, did the first tendrils of love for you begin to ensnare my heart, tendrils that have now grown to vast roots and thus have anchored themselves firmly within. Won't you please sing for me? Sing again that song that you sang that first night."

"Which song was it, sir?" Her blushes were covering her entire body she was sure but she basked in his words. She was sure he was exaggerating but again, how could she deny such a handsome request?

"'Twas _Barbara Allen_."

Bella chuckled. "That's my ironing song but I shall make an exception here and sing it for you but only if you sing it with me, please?"

From that night onwards, the two of them had continued to sing together to the delight of their family. Edward's rich baritone melded well with Bella's sweet soprano and they both took great delight in sharing their talent with their family and with each other.

Due to the fact the Cullens were in half-mourning, there couldn't be a large celebration of Edward and Bella's nuptials out of respect for Aunt Abigail and her daughters. Bella was relieved at that, though Rosalie and Esme regretted they wouldn't be able to have a grand wedding breakfast afterwards. Bella had no wish to be the center of a spectacle.

And so it would happen after church services tomorrow, they would assemble at the Cullen household on King Street and there, in the back parlor over looking Esme's treasured flower garden, the minister would unite Edward and Bella in holy matrimony. The thought that she'd be tied to this man for the rest of her life gave her heart thrills and made her happier than she could have ever imagined. It seemed each moment that passed she loved him more.

Jasper and Emmett had joined the family for the event, though they were both staying at Jasper's father's home. Bella had noticed that Jasper seemed a little down at the mouth and she hoped there wasn't anything too severe troubling him. Perhaps the course of true love wasn't running smoothly for him. She wished there was something she could do to cheer him.

Emmett spent every second he could at the Cullen's. It seemed from the looks of their happy contentment that he and Rosalie were closer to making an announcement of their own. Bella was glad for them but she wondered where they would live afterwards. She hoped they would stay on at Charles Street but she knew that may be unlikely. While she would enjoy their company, she also understood that Rose had an income that Edward used to pay for expenses and she wondered what the loss of such would do to their own stability. Perhaps this was something she could discuss with her intended but she was unsure how to bring it up. Men could be prickly when it came to that sort of thing. It could be that was why he held on to the necklace. She could make that fifty pounds stretch for years, she was sure, and still send some to Mrs. Cope.

She finished the last stitch on her dress and stood, holding it against herself, and imagining how it would look on her tomorrow morn. The fabric was a soft blue, the color of a twilit sky and there were tiny silver threads throughout so the fabric gleamed in a certain light like tiny stars. It was of an open robe design and the petticoat was the same material as the outer robe. She wasn't fond of panniers and so she constructed a narrower profile, enough to accent her small waist, and the fine lace at the bodice would compliment her bosom. She had to admit the addition of lace at the elbows was pure vanity on her part. The dress was lovely and quite the most beautiful dress she'd ever created. She only hoped she did it justice.

After putting the dress in the clothespress, she walked over to her mirror and looked at her reflection. Removing her cap, she combed her hair, sighing as she remembered the long, flowing locks she had had in England. She hoped Edward wouldn't be too disappointed at her short hair. It had grown out some since she had cut it and it now brushed her shoulders. She was able to pin it up under her cap so its meager length wasn't evident to others but Edward would be sure to notice it tomorrow night.

_Tomorrow night. _

Bella swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She hoped she would please Edward then, as well. She knew that marital congress was an important part of marriage, at least for the gentleman. She wanted to satisfy all of her husband's desires, lest he ever regret marrying her.

Even though she was inexperienced, Bella knew all about _that_ particular activity. It was surprising what an innocent maiden could learn as she knelt at the feet of various gossiping customers while her mouth was full of pins and her hands full of fabric. Mrs. Cope's clients tended to forget she was there most of the time and only her blushing cheeks gave away her ignorance. From what her customers chattered about, marital relations seemed to be an onerous chore for the ladies. However, Bella was determined to bear it with good grace in pursuit of her husband's happiness and contentment.

After she tucked up her hair and replaced her cap, she decided to see if Esme had a need of her. She knew both Esme and Rosalie were either in the sitting room or the kitchen and she believed she could be useful in either place. She was delighted however, when she stepped out into the hallway still straightening her cap, to bump into her intended as he was leaving his own room.

"Isabella, I didn't know you were up here." He smiled as he steadied her.

"I was putting the finishing touches upon the gown I am to wear tomorrow, sir." She smiled back.

Edward's hands drifted down from her arms to her hands and wove his fingers through hers. "Sir? That sounds so unfriendly, _miss,_ but…" he looked around quickly to make sure no one else was about, "…come in here with me."

He drew her back through his bedroom doorway and pulled her into his arms. She was delightedly shocked at his boldness and giggled when he leaned down to kiss her. Placing her hands upon his chest, she gave herself up to his embrace and enjoyed his caresses. Over these past weeks he had taught her that there was nothing sweeter than his kisses.

"You've become rather daring the nearer we get to our wedding day," she whispered when he lifted his head.

A wicked sparkle lit in his eye and he pulled her closer. "Wait until you see what I shall dare tomorrow night, my love."

Bella's cheeks turned cherry-red and she choked on a gurgling laugh. "You are most mischievous, Ed…sir."

"Truly, must you be so formal? I enjoy hearing my name on your lips."

He bent to kiss her again and she sighed obligingly and said, "Edward."

He moved from her lips to the hollow behind her ear and murmured, "I love your scent; 'tis so sweet, so delightful."

She snorted at that. "'Twas not what you said when we first met."

He pulled back and looked down into her eyes with a puzzled expression. "No? I don't recall exactly what…"

She reached up and touched the end of his nose and said, "You said I had a putrid stench."

Realization dawned as Edward remembered that first meeting, something he had put out of his mind long ago. His face turned red and he stammered a little when he said, "I…I do apologize. Unfortunately, that morning I was recovering from a night spent too long in my cups and my innards were unsteady—but, my dear, you did have the most breathtaking odor about you."

Bella laughed, "I do know that I did. I tried to go to a bath house before arriving at Charles Street but as it was the Lord's Day, all were closed."

He drew her closer and said, "I am ashamed that I was so ungentlemanly, Isabella. I hope you will forgive my boorish behavior. How may I repair any harm I have done?"

She laid a gentle hand on his cheek. "By always being honest with me, including warning me about any stench I may have. I shall always need to know that I can trust your word. Even if you hadn't said anything, you still would have smelled me. I reeked."

"This begs the question then, my Isabella, why did you have such a pungent bouquet? I've met many a passenger just off a long voyage and none quite had the aroma that you had."

"My old friend in Portsmouth, Mrs. Cheney, suggested that I rub oil of camphor into my skin to prevent an infestation of vermin while I was voyaging. After six weeks, it did create quite a miasma, I am sure. You would never believe how happy I was when I was able to scour it off that first evening I was in Annapolis. But I will say, Mrs. Cheney's method was useful. I harbored no uninvited guests after my journey."

"I am glad."

He rubbed his nose against hers, and added, "But I must admit, I am equally happy the smell washed away, too. 'Twould be a shame to have such a lovely flower as thee besmirched by the fragrance of a skunk."

She laughed and lightly smacked his shoulder. "You are a fortunate man that your soon-to-be bride delights in your teasing."

"It's my rather backwards way of showing my love for you, Isabella."

The look in his eyes as he said this caused her heart to flutter. She was moved to rise up on her toes and press her lips to his, the first time she ever initiated a kiss with him. It was his turn to be swept off his feet and his response was so spirited, that he picked her up and sat down upon his bed, holding her on his lap. He discovered this new position evened the difference in their heights and he could pull her closer as his teasing took on a non-verbal form.

Edward parted his lips to taste the fullness of Bella's and moaned. He was dizzy with need for her and felt his body respond enthusiastically. He prayed her voluminous skirts would hide that fact from her. He wondered if his need would be off putting to her. If she were willing, it would be so easy and delightful to lay her back upon his bed to love her with his body as well as he already did with his heart. His honor dictated, however, that they wait until tomorrow night. Then, she would be his and he would be hers and all would be right with the world.

_Tomorrow night._

He knew they'd share a taste of paradise then.

As he continued to kiss her, he felt her pull the ribbon from his queue and run her fingers through his hair. He shivered as he brushed the tip of his tongue along the lush fullness of her bottom lip. Bella gasped at the unexpected tickle of his tongue which allowed for a more intimate kiss. She'd never felt so enraptured and nervy, as though every particle of her body was alit in want and need but she knew they had to wait. Venturing into Venus' bower for the first time in broad daylight, while still unwed, and at her future parent-in-law's home would not be wise.

They pulled apart and stared for a moment in each other's eyes. Bella's fingers were still tangled in his hair and she lovingly caressed the nape of his neck.

"It pleases me when you do that," Edward said.

"You are pleased when I misarrange your hair?" She smiled impishly.

"Have your way with it now, miss-soon-to-be-madam, for I shall be returning the favor anon."

Bella's conscience was nudged and she felt it best to reveal her literal short-coming now rather than surprise him with it later. "There's something I must tell thee."

Surprised at her formality, Edward pulled away and looked full into Bella's face. "You can tell me anything, my love."

"Mrs. Cheney was a font of wisdom in helping me to prepare for my journey here. In addition to the camphor oil, she suggested other measures to ensure I had as comfortable voyage as possible."

Edward nodded but wondered why she felt the need to discuss this at this moment.

"I know that a woman's hair is her glory and a husband's delight is in it but, I am sorry to tell thee, Edward, upon Mrs. Cheney's suggestion, I cut my hair. I used to have hair to my waist but now it barely touches my shoulders."

"But Isabella, I've known you've had short hair since your first day in Annapolis. Short or long, I'd love it the same. Don't concern yourself about it on my behalf."

It was Bella's turn to look puzzled. "But I've always worn a cap in your presence Edward. How did you know that my tresses were shorn?"

Edward's eyes widened as he recalled exactly what the circumstances were when he discovered her short locks. It was at the same time he discovered her breath-taking and utterly enchanting figure. He had decided to never reveal the fact of the accidental sighting of his love arising from her bath but there she was staring at him and waiting for his explanation. He swallowed. She had just made him promise to always be truthful even if the truths were distressing.

Bella wondered why her fiancé was blushing from the tops of his ears to the apples of his cheeks. "Edward, what's troubling you?"

His sigh was gusty and he said, "I accidently saw you in your bath that first night."

She gasped in horror. "You saw…"

"Isabella, it was not intended. I had gone through the alley to the back of the house that evening to fetch a bottle of wine from the cellar. As I passed the kitchen window, I happened to see you arise from your bath."

Her cheeks were now rivaling his in their scarlet color. She scrambled off his lap and opened her mouth to say something but she hardly knew what.

Edward hurriedly rushed on, "Please don't be offended, my love. It was pure accident. I must say, though, I ne'er have seen such a beauteous sight in my life. I was struck still and dumb by your amazing beauty but the minute my wits returned to me and I realized I had grossly, though unintentionally, violated your privacy, I left."

Bella frowned. "And the next morning you asked me to call upon the carpenter to put up shutters in the kitchen window." Bella understood the reason for that strange request now.

"Were they to keep you from temptation, Edward?" she asked sternly.

Edward blinked. "No! I'd wanted to protect you from any who might stumble upon such a scene. Even then, I felt protective of you, Isabella."

Bella studied him, carefully weighing his words with his seeming sincerity. A spark lit her eye and she said, "So, you gave yourself leave to fall in love with me because you had first witnessed my services as a housekeeper and seen my 'goods' as it were. I daresay you are quite the crafty entrepreneur, Mr. Cullen."

Edward gabbled a bit, grasping for the right words to say. "No, no, it wasn't like that. I promise. I, of course, was appreciative of your beauty but I'm wise enough to know that beauty is but skin deep. Much to my joy, I learned over time that you are beautiful both in character and deed as well as appearance. That's when I became enamored with you."

Bella stood in front of Edward as he sat upon his bed and put her hands on his shoulders. Her smile was teasing as she said, "They say, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. I think it only fair that I may see what I will be obtaining on the morrow, as well."

Edward was amazed as her meaning became clear. "You wish to inspect my 'goods' before we wed?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "'Tis what any canny hussy would do when making a transaction. You'd expect no less of me in the market place, after all." Her eyes fair glittered with glee and she was finding it hard to keep her smile from giving all away.

But she must have revealed herself because Edward's expression changed from astonishment to audaciousness as he stood and, looking directly into her eyes, pulled off his coat. He then began to unbutton his waistcoat, an unholy gleam in his eye. Bella couldn't help but to watch as he revealed himself, half sure he would stop, half afraid he wouldn't, positive that he was challenging her on her audacity. As his waistcoat followed his coat, she was determined to follow through on her demand.

Then he quickly started on his breeches and as the final button slipped its buttonhole, the garment dropped to the floor. His shirt tails hung down to mid-thigh covering most of his points of interest. He pulled his stock loose then unbuttoned the shirt's one button at his neck. Quirking an eyebrow, he watched as his darling's cheeks got redder and redder. He reached down to pull his shirt up over his head but Bella could take no more. She squeaked and ran out of the room.

Edward watched her go and laughed.

It was going to be delightful to live his life with her. He couldn't wait.

* * *

The back parlor on King Street was filled with fresh spring flowers and the sun shone through the lead paned windows upon the lovely sight within. It was a small wedding as these things went; just the bride and groom, the groom's family, and a few friends. The household servants stood at the back. Mrs. Hill sobbed into her handkerchief. She had helped bring Edward into the world and thought of him more as her own son than that of her employer's.

The minister stood with his back to the Palladian window that over looked the garden. Edward tenderly held the hand of his stunning bride and recited the words that would bind himself to her forever.

"I, Edward Anthony, take thee, Isabella Maria, to my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

He smiled down at Bella, noticing the tears that glazed her eyes. He hoped they were tears of joy. He squeezed her hands to reassure her that he was indeed the happiest man in the world.

The minister turned to Bella and asked her to recite her vows.

"I, Isabella Maria, take thee, Edward Anthony, to my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

The minister handed Edward a ring. The young man had purchased it soon after Bella agreed to marry him and he followed the simple dictates of the time. It was a thick, plain gold band that she would wear on the ring finger of her left hand. It would serve as a sign to all that she was now a married woman. She was his.

Edward gazed into Bella's eyes and recited, "With this Ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

As Edward recited that last phrase, he slipped the ring over the top Bella's left thumb, then her index finger, then her middle finger and then on the word 'amen' he settled the ring on her ring finger, for all knew that was the location of the vein that went directly to her heart. Edward hoped she could feel the tender emotion that filled him as he finally placed his ring on her finger.

After it was settled there, he lifted her hand and looking into her glistening eyes, kissed his ring as it lay upon her finger.

The minister said, "You have given and pledged your promises to each other. Your vows may have been spoken in minutes, but your promises to each other will endure until your last breath therefore, I now pronounce you man and wife."

Turning to Edward he said, "You may kiss your bride."

With joy and delight, Edward leaned down to share a chaste kiss with Bella. He was so filled with happiness, he felt as though he could fly.

Clasping her hands over his heart, Edward gazed down into his new wife's eyes and said only so that she could hear, "I shall love thee forever, Mistress Cullen."

**AN:**

**John Donne was English poet and author in the 1600s. You should read ****_To His Mistress Going to Bed_****. It's hilarious. He evidently wanted some something something and couldn't abide how long it took her to ready herself for bed. **

**Brides didn't usually wear white until Queen Victoria's time in the 19th century. Their wedding dresses were expected to be useful in their daily lives, not simply an indulgence worn for only one day. Bella's dress would be one she would wear to formal events in the future.**

**In those days being a hussy just meant you were a housewife. No insult intended.**

**I changed Bella's middle name from canon to **_**Maria**_** because that would have been more common in those days. In Great Britain **_**Maria**_** was pronounced (and may still be) Mah RYE ah. **

**The vows that Edward and Bella make are directly from the **_**Book of Common Prayer**_** that was published in 1662. This wasn't the first edition of the book as word usage had changed between the 1500s and that date. I think it interesting to note the difference between what the groom's vows and the bride's.**

**First off, the groom **_**plights his troth**_**, the bride **_**gives **_**him hers. A plight is a solemn promise, an oath. The bride bestows herself as a gift. **_**Troth**_** is a promise of faithfulness and fidelity.**

**And of course, the bride promises to obey her husband. Times have sure changed but we must remember it wasn't until the last century that women had suffrage in most countries. In this B&E's day women were considered a possession, chattel. But notice, the groom has to further promise his bride all his worldly possessions and he will worship her body. (YUM. That thought give me hot flashes. Edward. Worshipping his wife's body. Gaahhhh.) The bride makes no such pledge (but then, women didn't own things in their own right in those days usually, either.) Typically, only women wore wedding rings. Double ring ceremonies weren't common until the 20th century.**

* * *

**Chapter 19: Connubial Bliss**

* * *

A loud huzzah echoed across the docks as Bella and Edward boarded the schooner that would be sailing for Annapolis that noon. The entire wedding party had accompanied them to the ship's side to wish them farewell. Edward carefully escorted his bride aboard and they both stood at the railing waving to their family and friends. Bella felt her face would split in two if she smiled any wider but she couldn't help it. She was overjoyed, her hand safely tucked at her husband's elbow, as she waved her handkerchief at her new family. Esme was hanging on Carlisle's arm, a bit tearful but her delight showed in her glowing smile. She was happy for her son and new daughter.

Rosalie was also there with her beau and Jasper stood next to them, his hands shoved in his pockets with a happy smile on his face for the couple. Mr. McCarty's high spirits were evident when he shouted to Edward, "Give her a kiss for fondness, sir!"

Bella looked up at her husband and beamed, not thinking Edward would oblige Emmett's impertinence but suddenly she was engulfed in his embrace, bent over backwards, and being kissed for all that she was worth. Her heart started pounding as she reveled in her husband's strength and the degree of his ardor. For a moment she forgot about the crowd, about the ship's crew, about everything except the fact that this man was now hers and she loved him.

When Edward righted her again, she was brought back to earth and realized their exuberance had been witnessed by all—friends, family, sailors and passersby alike—and she blushed, putting her hands over her cheeks. The cheers and laughter made her redden even more but she was smiling when she said to Edward, "That was rather cheeky of you, Mr. Cullen."

"I couldn't help myself, Mrs. Cullen. 'Twas a notion I had had myself many times this day and was glad to finally act upon it."

The crew had cast off by then and the ship was drifting away from the dock. There was another huzzah as the merry bystanders bid the newly married couple another adieu.

After the wedding ceremony, a joyous breakfast reception had been served in the King Street house but the newlyweds couldn't linger. Edward wanted to spend their first night together as man and wife in their own home. Angela Crowley had been sent an express mail, informing her of their coming arrival and the change in Bella's status from housekeeper to housewife. Bella was sure the girl and her mother would be shocked but not displeased.

Rosalie was going to stay behind in Alexandria for a se'ennight and then return to Annapolis. She claimed she had some shopping to do but it was more likely she wanted to give the newlyweds some time to themselves. Jasper was of the same mind and planned to accompany Rosalie when she returned.

Bella never could discover what Jasper was unhappy about as they never had a moment to exchange confidences. Perhaps his good spirits would return during his stay at his father's. She would pray his happiness would revive soon. She was in such a blissful state herself, she wanted all to feel as happy as she did.

As the schooner sailed down the Potomac River to the Chesapeake Bay, the captain invited Bella and Edward to pass the time in his personal cabin. It wasn't a very large space but there were two comfortable chairs where they could rest during the journey. The cabin boy provided them some refreshments and then left. Thus, they were alone for the first time since they were wed. They smiled bashfully at each other, suddenly at a loss for words.

Finally, Edward was able to put a thoughtful sentence together. "I thought all passed well today, didn't you?"

"Indeed, t'was most pleasurable. I believe all enjoyed themselves, even Mr. Whitlock."

"Jasper? Aye, though he's been fairly blue lately."

"Do you know the cause of it, husband?"

Edward grinned at her use of his new title. "I do. It's a sorry tale."

"What's his trouble, then?"

"It seems that Mr. Brandon has taken a prejudice against the colonies and is moving with his family to England."

"Oh, dear! Poor Mr. Whitlock will sorely miss them."

"That he will, especially Miss Brandon. I believe Jasper wishes to make her his wife but her father has his sights set on a higher ranked son-in-law for himself. He's aiming for a peerage."

"There are not many peers in the colonies."

"Hence, another reason for Mr. Brandon's quest for a change of residence."

"What will Mr. Whitlock do?"

"I think he's still pondering that question. I know what I'd do if I were him but …"

"What would you do?"

He looked intently into her eyes. "I'd let nothing stand between me and my true love."

She smiled warmly. "As you didn't."

He arose from his seat and knelt at her feet and said, "As I never shall."

Taking her hands in his he kissed each then pulled her forward so he could reach her lips and softly, tenderly brushed his against hers.

Tears welled in Bella's eyes and she found she was trembling with emotion. "Now sir, I have been that proud of myself for not blubbering like a baby today but I think if your words get any sweeter, I shall weep for sheer happiness."

Edward cupped her face in his hands and smiled fondly. "I do believe I saw a few tears shining in your eyes during our wedding. I was afraid you were questioning the wisdom of binding yourself to me."

Mirroring him, Bella placed her hands on his face. "Oh my dear, I was teary because I was filled with the happiness and love I have for you. I was thanking God for my good fortune."

"I've not the words to express how I felt, how I feel, but I will spend my life showing you."

With that, he kissed her and the fires it sparked between the two of them soon had Edward wishing they were already at home in Annapolis. He knew a tiny cabin onboard an inland schooner was not a fitting place to consummate their marriage and reluctantly he eased back on their embrace.

Bella looked dazedly into his eyes, her lips parted and her heart pounding. She was craving more of something unnamable, something she had never been aware of before. She was completely bemused and trusted that Edward would shepherd her into this new world; sure he would keep her safe and loved.

"Mrs. Cullen, I wish we were already at home in Annapolis but, alas, we are not. Shall we take a turn about the deck and watch the world go by?"

Bella was recalled to her surroundings and blushed. "I think that is a wonderful proposal, Mr. Cullen."

Smiling, Edward stood and offered her his arm which she gladly took, and they spent the rest of the sunny afternoon on deck, enjoying the scenery and pleasant conversation.

The sun was setting as they approached the harbor in Annapolis and Bella began to feel her nerves again. Soon, they would be in their home, in their chamber, and in their bed. She prayed that she would have the fortitude to face that particular duty with equanimity but remembering the heat of their most recent kisses, she was beginning to suspect it wouldn't be as arduous as she had feared.

It wasn't too long before Edward was paying the carter for lugging their belongings up to Charles Street. The sconces on either side of their front door were lit and their cheery glow was welcoming in the darkening evening. As they stood there, with their luggage around them, the door was thrown open and Mrs. Crowley, Angela, Tyler and, even, Mr. Banner stood there with happy grins and excited salutations.

"Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen! What a pleasure it is to have you back and in such a fine manner. What a charming surprise for us all!" Mr. Banner was exuberant in his address.

Mrs. Crowley was nodding and grinning until she noticed the pile of luggage. "Tyler and Angela, go fetch those trunks to Mr. and Mrs. Cullen's chamber. Quickly now, their supper is cooling on the table."

Edward stepped forward and took the old gentleman's outstretched hand. "Mr. Banner, how kind of you to welcome us. We had no notion of any sort of homecoming once we arrived this eve."

Edward bowed to his neighbor, thinking that outside of the old man's condolence call after Aunt Abigail died, he'd had hardly any dealings with the gentleman.

"I hope you don't mind me, Mr. Cullen, but Mrs. Crowley could speak of nothing else but your news and I found that I must have the chance to welcome the new bride and groom. But now that I've done so, I will go hence. I am sure you wish to have your home to yourselves." Bowing, first to Bella and then to Edward, the little man walked the few steps back to his own home.

After her children had disappeared upstairs with the luggage, Mrs. Crowley turned to the newlyweds. "Now, Master and Mistress, Angela and I have set a small repast in the dining room. Ye must be sharp set, for certain. We shall get all arranged above stairs for ye both."

"Mrs. Crowley, 'tis most kind of you to go to all of this trouble." Bella was touched by the woman's generosity.

"Oh, 'tis no trouble, only a joy. Now, come. The food is getting cold." And with that she turned and bustled into the house.

Bella made as though to follow her but Edward stopped her. "Allow me, my wife." And with that he bodily scooped her up and carried her over their threshold.

Bella laughed in delight and started to tease him for his high spirits when a feminine scream sounded shrilly from the Volturi house next door. The couple looked at each other in surprise at the most unusual noise.

"Edward, do you think we should inquire as to the trouble and offer assistance?" Bella's arm was wrapped about his neck as she was nestled in his arms.

"I should in case there is need." But Edward was torn between duty and desire.

Coming down the stairs, Mrs. Crowley overheard this last exchange and said, "No, young sir. I can offer assistance as well as any. Ye be newly married and should close your door on the world for a good few days, 'tis God's truth. I shall venture next door to see what assistance I can give. Ye both rest at your ease. There's probably nothing wrong but a case of the vapors over there. Miss Jane's wont to have those upon occasion." And with that, the energetic woman left the house, shutting the door behind her.

Edward set Bella down on the floor of the foyer as he said, "Mrs. Crowley has a most remarkable thought."

"That she should go to give aid to the Volturis rather than you?"

He chuckled and wrapped his arms about her and said, "No, that we should shut ourselves away from the world for some days. That is an exceptional plan."

At that moment, Tyler and Angela descended the stairs from above. Angela curtsied and said, "All is ready upstairs, miss… uhm, ma'am. I shall come in the morning as usual to prepare your breakfast and stir the fire."

"That's not necessary, Angela, I can do that as well as you..." Bella began.

But then Edward leaned over and whispered in her ear.

Blushing profusely, and with wide eyes, she said to Angela, "After consideration, perhaps you should come but later in the morning; perhaps eight of the clock?"

Edward leaned down and whispered again.

"Oh… er, nine, then," Bella said to Angela.

Another husbandly whisper.

"Ten?" Bella looked in surprise at Edward and was almost scandalized. She'd never been abed that late in her life, even when she had the quinsy.

Edward turned to Angela who was blinking innocently at the pair, "Angela, please come two hours before noon time, tomorrow. We shan't need you until then."

Angela curtsied and said, "Yes, sir. My brother and I shall just let ourselves out the back way then, sir and madam. Goodnight." She and Tyler headed towards the kitchen stairs and soon were gone.

Finally, Bella and Edward were alone in their home as man and wife, and so celebrated with a heated kiss, but soon Edward's stomach roared its protest and it was Bella's turn to pull apart from him. "'Twould be a shame not to eat what was prepared for us. Your stomach agrees with me, I am thinking."

Smiling wryly, Edward offered his arm and the two went into the dining room to sample what dear Mrs. Crowley and Angela had left for them. The first thing Edward noticed was that there were two places set, one at the foot of the table and one at the head.

"Would you allow for some informality this eve, Isabella, and let me move my setting next to yours? This arrangement puts far too much distance between the two of us."

"That's most agreeable. 'Twill be easier to converse that way."

As Edward moved his place setting down the table he suggested, "Let us be quick about our dining, madam. I find I have more hungers than just the one tonight." Winking at her, he put a slice of ham on her plate and one on his own and they began to eat. As she couldn't think of a word to say in response to him, she let her blush speak for itself.

They enjoyed their meal, although they consumed it hurriedly. Bella was overcome with the consideration their neighbor showed them. "I must do something for Mrs. Crowley to repay her for her exceptional kindness this eve, and indeed throughout the whole of my acquaintance with her."

"That we will, my dear. She is a good woman and I am indeed thankful she thought to prepare the house for us. I was imagining a few hours spent setting fires, heating water and preparing a meal as well as readying our bridal chamber."

Thinking about their bed, got Edward to thinking about what joys they'd share there and so a few minutes later he asked, "Have you done, my love? Shall we now inspect our chamber?"

Bella looked at the food that was left. "This needs to be put away, else it will spoil. 'Twill only take me a moment to do. Go on up and I shall join you shortly."

But she was surprised when he insisted upon helping her and between the two of them, the dining room was set to rights and the food put a way in the larder. Edward was able to convince his wife to leave the dishes to soak for the next day. He found he could wait no longer.

Just as she was drying her hands, Edward got a particular look in his eye, and with a mischievous smile, he picked her up and carried her from the kitchen as quickly as he could climb the two flights of stairs between the kitchen and their bedroom. Bella laughed the whole way. "Edward, I can walk."

"I can walk faster."

"That eager are you?"

"Oh my dear heart, you have no idea."

When he got to their chamber, he closed the door and set her upon her feet but no sooner had the soles of her shoes touched the rug, he began to kiss her, hardly stopping to come up for air. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. He felt as though his very veins had caught fire from his need for her.

He reached to pull her cap from her hair but discovered it was pinned into place when she yelped.

"Oh Isabella, I am sorry. Did I hurt you badly?" he started to internally chastise himself for his over-eagerness.

"You startled me more than hurt me but… could I have a few moments to ready myself for bed? I think it would be more comfortable for both of us."

"Of course, my love. Forgive my passion. I should have thought of your comfort ahead of my desire."

"Shush, Edward, 'tis my joy that you do not find me wanting. I only need a few moments and then you can begin again where you left off."

He laughed to hear her banter. "Shall I remove myself then?"

"No, I shall return shortly." She got her dressing gown from the wardrobe and lighting a taper, she went down to visit the necessary. She put her dressing gown in her old bedroom off the kitchen, intending to get undressed there after she had gone outside to the privy.

She was surprised to notice that the kitchen door had been left unlocked. Of course. This was how Angela would get into the house in the morning. She felt uneasy leaving the door unsecured all the night through, especially as she knew James James had a murderous grudge against her.

She was pondering this problem as she pulled the door open, not thinking to shield her candle's flame so that the draft blew out her candle.

"Tchaa!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

She sat the candle stick on the small table next to the door and was thankful there was just enough light in the darkened yard that she could find the way to the privy door. Without any trouble, she went about her business and upon returning to the house, decided to lock the kitchen door. Angela could knock in the morning and she would let her in. Certainly Edward would understand.

She relit her candle by lighting a paper spill from the banked kitchen fire and then went to shut the kitchen window shutters as well. After Edward's confession about watching her as she was in her bath, she decided they were a good investment. She still blushed when she remembered he had already seen her in her altogether.

Carrying the candlestick, she went back into her old room and shut the door. There was another unlit candlestick in the room and she held her taper to it to make it brighter. She walked over to the dresser with the mirror above it and unpinned and removed her cap.

She then started to unhook her dress. She had done a very good job hiding the hooks but as a result, they were also hard to undo. This was the main reason she shied away from allowing Edward to undress her. He'd either become frustrated or tear the delicate material. She was glad she set the hooks in a front seam, it would have been nigh impossible for her to unhook them by herself if the seam was in the back. Dresses with back seamed hooks were for ladies who had maids to dress them.

After the last hook was undone, she slipped her arms out of the sleeves, and then stepped out of the garment. She laid it flat upon the bed so it wouldn't crease. She was beginning to step out of her shoes when she realized she didn't think to bring her house slippers with her. She would have to leave her shoes on, therefore, she didn't bother untying her garters and removing her silk stockings. She knew better to wear leather shoes bare footed for then they would eventually smell like a wet pig if care was not always taken.

Bella unlaced the farthingale that provided shape to her full skirts. She was rather glad Edward wouldn't see her in it as she thought it looked rather ridiculous. Next, was her corset that she only needed to unhook as the ties were laced to her shape the first time she put it on.

Finally, she was wearing only her chemise and hose. She looked into the mirror and sighed that she also had forgotten a comb so that she could straighten her hair. The best she could do was to run her fingers through her curls and hope for the best. She slipped on her house robe, blew out the candle she had found in the little room and took her candle stick back up the stairs to her waiting husband. She double checked the lock on the front door for security's sake and then turned to face the next flight of stairs. She tried to ignore how hard her heart was pounding and keep the candle still in her trembling hand but she found that was an impossible task. Lord help her, she was terribly nervous.

* * *

Edward watched the door close on his bride and cursed to himself. He had been determined not to act like a callow youth and treat his wife as would a consummate gentleman but yet, the first chance he'd gotten, he'd attacked her. He was glad she was able to stop him before he ruined it all. This was not the way he planned to begin their life together.

What to do? He looked down at the bulge in his breeches and muttered, "Sir Edward, your impetuosity is the root of all my trouble. My wife deserves a tender swain, not a raging satyr but you take the reins from my better judgment the moment she's in my arms. I cannot let you be the ruler of me this evening."

There was only one thing to do and since he was already primed, he knew it wouldn't take too long to achieve. The resultant release should keep Sir Edward's overbearing exuberance from spoiling his tender intentions. He quickly shed his coat and vest and unbuttoned his breeches.

Shutting his eyes, he took himself in hand and conjured up the image of his Isabella the first time he really saw her. He recalled her tousled curls, her pure profile, and her womanly curves gleaming in the fire light. It wasn't at all surprising that he peaked in mere moments.

He stood there gasping for breath, glad to have had the fore thought to do this beforehand lest he disappoint his lovely Isabella. It wouldn't have done to spout off too soon. As on edge as he had been, there could have been a real chance he'd have quickened even before her virginal wall was breeched. He cleaned up and then decided to give his whole body a going over so that he would be fresh for his bride.

He noted his own nerves as he washed. He was always proud of his ability to remain calm in any circumstance but this evening it seemed that this little woman had the power to bring him to his knees.

He dried himself and then pulled on his dressing gown and tied the sash.

Now, what could he do? He started to pace, growing more nervous as the minutes ticked by.

He looked about their chamber and decided to light more candles. They would cast a homier glow about the room. As he lit the candle that was on the chest of drawers, he noticed his reflection in the mirror above it. His hair was still slicked down and pulled back tightly. He took the ribbon out of his queue and brushed the pomade out of his hair, thinking Bella would rather feel it unadorned. Looking at his reflection as his normally wild locks reappeared, he thought at least she'd know him for exactly how he was—untamed mane and all.

What else could he do? He looked around the room and saw the bed was already turned down and the drapes were drawn. He felt the mattress and was happy to discover it had been fluffed and aired so that it was as light as a cloud. He would compliment Angela the next time he saw her.

He went back to pacing but it wasn't long before his attention was caught by the two birds—the nightingales— that he had noticed all those weeks ago depicted in the wallpaper. He stopped and gazed at them with a soft smile on his lips as he remembered how _his_ nightingale entranced him from almost the very beginning. He was delighted by her countenance, enchanted by her voice, enthralled by her wit, and enamored by her character. And now she was his and she loved him. His heart was so filled with joy.

He turned as the door opened, his eyes full of the devotion he felt for her and his nerves dissolved. There she was, grasping her robe closed at her neck, her curls a riot about her head and shoulders, and looking as anxious as he had been just moments before. Holding out his hand to her he smiled and she came to him, still nervous but wanting to be close to him.

"Do you see these two little birds in the paper?" Edward pointed to the pair.

Looking closely she nodded. "Aye. Why, they are nightingales, aren't they?"

"That they are. See that one singing so daintily on the upper branch? See how her mate bows before her? He's captivated by her. He's charmed and besotted. Nothing exists for him but her. She is everything to him. Everything."

Bella knew he was no longer speaking of the birds and her smile grew shaky as the love rose in her heart. He drew her closer and then brushed his lips across hers as he whispered once again, "Everything."

She shut her eyes, feeling as though her heart had flown to her lips from its normal perch within her chest giving him leave to kiss it, taste it and take it. He pulled the sash that held her robe closed and slipped the garment off her shoulders. His lips explored her neck, her shoulders, the lobe of her ear.

He swept her up, carried her across the room, and laid her gently upon their bed. Standing back, he gazed lovingly down at her.

"You are so lovely."

He saw that her shoes were still on her feet so he deftly slipped one off, then the other. He noticed she was still wearing her stockings, so putting his hands on her ankle, he looked up and asked, "May I, my darling?"

She nodded her head, her heart pounding in her ears. He slowly pushed up her chemise until he reached the ties of her garter just above her knee. He pulled the tie loose, and then rolled her stocking back down her leg. His warm hands lightly stroked her limb which curiously caused her to shiver. He pulled the stocking off her foot, then did the same to the other.

After removing Bella's hoisery, he caressed the outside of her legs, admiring their slenderness and dainty ankles. He gazed once again into her eyes, shrugged out of his robe and quickly climbed into bed beside her.

The minute he pulled his robe apart revealing his nakedness, she squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly shy. She felt the bed move as he laid down next to her and gathered her close.

"Isabella, look at me."

She opened her eyes to see his own sparkling in the candle light.

"I promised today to worship thee with my body. All that I have, all that I am, I have given to thee."

She couldn't get any words past the knot in her throat so she simply nodded her head.

Leaning forward he kissed her lips, then followed her jaw to her ear and he whispered, "Oh, how I love thee."

His hand caressed the inside of her arm and he felt the gooseflesh rise there. Smiling at the effect he was having on her, he rose up on one elbow to look down on her as he traced a path up her shoulder, to her neck, her ear and then threaded his fingers through her soft curls.

"You are so beautiful, it fair takes my breath away," he whispered. With his hand cupping the back of her head he leaned down and kissed her, this time parting his lips to taste and tease.

Bella's heart was pounding. His touch left an effervescence in its wake that had her every cell alit with flame. He tilted her head back and her own lips parted as their kiss became a form of worship of its own. She couldn't help moaning as the ache that had started deep within fanned out all over her body.

His hair was loose and, remembering how he told her he enjoyed feeling her hands in it, she wove her fingers through his locks and pulled him closer. He delighted in her touch.

"Oh my Isabella, I am on fire for you." His lips drifted down the column of her neck to kiss the hollow of her throat.

Sir Edward had evidently felt his earlier activity had been merely an appetizer for whetting hunger, for he now was atable clamoring for more. Bella unknowingly brushed against him with her thigh and Edward gasped.

"'Tis well with you, Edward?" She was fearful she had somehow hurt him.

His gasp turned into a chuckle. "I would venture to say I've never been better. Bella, I do fear that my wits may scatter the further we go."

"Then I shall walk that road with ye because I've never felt like this in my life. I am so very…very… I don't know how to describe it. I haven't the words…"

He buried his face in her neck and let his hands drift down, his kisses whispering pleas into her skin.

"Isabella, may I remove your gown? I want to feel you against me."

She blushed vividly but catching her bottom lip with her teeth she nodded. He was her husband and she did give him herself that morning. Besides, there was a growing part of her that wanted to feel his body against hers as well.

Edward reached down to grasp the hem of Bella's chemise and pulled it up over her head until at last she was bare beneath him. His breath caught again as her beauty was revealed to him once more. His throat went completely dry and he was ignited.

He looked almost desperately into her eyes, "Isabella, I…I must. I must..."

She felt the same compulsion as he and so she could only respond, "Yes. Please."

He ran his hand down her body, reveling in her soft, warm curves. He kissed her lips as he moved over her. She positioned her legs so that he was more comfortably settled between them. They were now body to body and heart to heart. Bella slowly traced the muscles in his shoulders and arms as she gazed up into his eyes.

Edward was lost. Lost in love. Lost in her. Lost forever.

He managed to whisper, "I love you" as he pressed slowly forward into her welcoming warmth and then stilled to catch his breath and allow Bella to catch hers.

"Are you well?" he asked her this time, closely studying her face and noting her discomfiture.

"Give me a moment," she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut.

Bella's body had adjusted to his but she wouldn't have called it a pleasant feeling. In fact, it had smarted quite a bit but she hadn't been surprised. She had heard enough horror stories about losing one's maidenhead that she was rather relieved her experience wasn't as gruesome.

She swallowed, pulled her legs up, finding that position a bit more comfortable, and then sighed.

"Isabella, do you wish me to cease?" Edward's voice was tight and she knew that waiting for her was costing him. She also realized wryly that stopping entirely would probably kill him.

"No, husband. 'Tis fine now. Have thy way, my love." She smiled up at him.

He started moving, slowly at first and after the first few strokes, Bella was much more at ease. She moved her hands from his shoulders to the nape of his neck where she twined her fingers through his hair there.

Edward was quickly losing all control, moving faster and faster and moaning louder and louder, until his climax began to come over him like an avalanche.

"I can't hold off any longer…oh...oh, my _Bella_…"

To Edward, it felt like he was falling from a mountain top, soaring out and beyond all his reckoning until he spiraled down and down and down. When his wits finally returned to him, he realized he had collapsed upon his precious bride. Mumbling an apology, he moved to lie at her side and gather her up into his arms. She fit so perfectly there.

He sighed in serene happiness and whispered as though in a devout prayer, "How I love you, my Bella."

"No one has ever called me that before." Bella nestled her head upon Edward's shoulder and rested her cheek against his chest.

"You are only _my_ Bella, my beautiful, blushing, beneficent, bride. I shall call you Bella from this night onward."

They lay there contentedly for a few moments until Edward thought to ask, "Was it very painful for you, my love?"

"'Twas nothing to speak of, Edward. No worse than having a tooth pulled." She smiled into his chest, enjoying her teasing.

But he didn't realize she was japing. "A tooth pulled? As bad as that?" He was beginning to feel remorseful.

"Not quite so bad. More like being kicked by a milk cow." Her smile broadened.

Edward was truly beginning to fret. "Kicked? That's not at all pleasant."

"Mayhap not like being kicked. More like, uhm, perhaps getting one's thumb caught in the door jamb."

"Oh, Bella. I am … I am so sorry, my darling. I hope it hasn't dissuaded you from the activity." Panic was replacing his remorse fairly quickly. What if she started to avoid him in the night? He'd truly be stricken with grief.

"Oh, no. I am not dissuaded from the exercise at all. I daresay we could engage in it again, p'raps once a fortnight or so, don't you think?"

"But…but…ah…"

"Too often? P'raps once every month, then?"

He let out a strangled gasp. "Isabella…"

She couldn't help herself, she started to giggle. Her giggles turned fairly quickly to outright laughter and he realized that he had married a scamp.

Grinning in pleased delight, he rose on an elbow to look down into her laughing face. "You would tease me, would you? We'll see about that."

With those words he started tickling her and her laughter turned to giggly squeals, until she cried,"Edward! Prithee, I beg you! Stop!"

She arched her back which incidentally presented her bosom in an unconsciously provocative manner. He stopped tickling her with his fingers, noticing her delectable figure just inches away from his face and so he pressed his lips to a rosy bud and tickled it with his tongue.

Bella gasped, her merriment turning almost immediately to desire. "Edward…," she groaned.

He lifted his head to smile crookedly down her, "Yes, m'love?"

"Prithee…don't stop."

Smirking he asked, "How now, madam, do you think a fortnight has already passed?"

Giggling, she pulled his head down to her lips and whispered against his, "Indeed sir, 'twas the fastest fortnight I ever spent."

Before Angela arrived to perform her duties late the next morning, the new Mr. and Mrs. Cullen had pleasantly passed a few more 'fortnights' just as quickly.

It also so happened they had been unaware of the locked kitchen door knob rattling futilely in the small hours of the night, for the first time refusing to open to the interloper.

**AN:**

**Schooner, two or three masted sailing vessel used fairly often along the Eastern seaboard during the 18th century, especially within the Chesapeake Bay.**

**Quinsy, a bad sore throat.**

**Paper spill, a piece of scrap paper, rolled tightly into a tube that was used to transfer fire from one thing, like a kitchen coal, to another, like a candle.**

**Farthingale, an undergarment that supports panniers and wide skirts through a construction of wire and tape. **

* * *

**Chapter 20: Surprises**

* * *

Jane was in shock.

She couldn't believe what she had just seen.

It must have been a nightmare or a hallucination.

She'd heard a hubbub in the street and went to look and was overjoyed to see that Edward Cullen had arrived back in Annapolis. He was such a fine figure of a man; so prepossessing and gentlemanly. And, considering he was no longer wearing black, he must be out of mourning as well.

All to the better. She would make sure to prod her mother into making an afternoon call the next day. She was going over in her mind what she would wear to entice him on her visit when, for some reason, Edward picked up the maid and carried her into his house.

Why would he do that? And why would the maid put her arms so confidingly about his neck? And why would they smile at each other so intently?

It couldn't be. They could not be married! To the maid? Never!

She screamed in horror and fell to the floor, drumming her heels and pounding her hands. Her mother rushed to her side making all sort of ineffectual noises and soon that old prying hen from Mr. Banner's was there shoving smelling salts under her nose.

Enough.

She arose to her feet, letting her mother lead her to her boudoir with promises of a cold compress and a darkened room.

As she lay there on her divan holding the chilled cloth to her eyes, she concluded that she must have misunderstood what she saw. Perhaps that puling slattern had clumsily fallen and had needed help into the house. Mr. Cullen being the gentleman that he was carried her in, maid or not.

She was sure that was the answer. Of course.

She would also make sure that _that_ maid would be evicted as soon as the banns between herself and Mr. Cullen were read.

An hour or so later, Jane heard the Cullen's kitchen door shut. She rose to look out of her window to spy upon who was entering the yard from the house. She hoped it was the maid. If so, she'd run down there and…what would she do? She couldn't make a scene because Mr. Cullen would be sure to find out.

She could lock her in the privy! By shoving a stave through the handles, the maid would be trapped inside. Jane grinned in malicious glee.

'Twould serve that vixen right. How dare she put her arms around Mr. Cullen's neck so brazenly? But, drat, the person wasn't using a light and Jane couldn't quite make out who was there. It wouldn't do at all to lock fair Mr. Cullen within the necessary. She'd have to get her vengeance on the maid some other way. Tonight, she would snoop inside Mr. Cullen's residence to see what she could do to further her desire.

But later on that evening, she found the Cullen kitchen door locked when she went venturing. The kitchen shutters were also closed. It dawned upon Jane that the maid had once again taken residence on the ground floor. Why couldn't she live in the garrets like normal servants?

The spoiled girl petulantly stomped her foot as she glared at the door. This meant she could no longer wander in the Cullen house to her heart's desire. The maid would hear her moving about for certain. She would have to think of something else to further her quest to become Mr. Cullen's bride.

Now, what could that be?

* * *

"Mother, I cannot get the door opened next door," Angela said as she entered the Banner house's kitchen.

"No, child? Why ever not?" Mrs. Crowley asked.

"'Tis locked and there doesn't seem to be a soul stirring over there."

With a knowledgeable twinkle in her eye, Mrs. Crowley said, "Mister and Mistress are most likely tired from their travels yesterday. Let 'em be. You just sit out in the yard over yonder and shell these peas for me. Keep an eye out for when they be needing ye."

"Yes, mother." Angela, ever the obedient child, did as her mother asked but still wondered why her employers were yet abed. It had gone past ten of the clock almost an hour ago. Their journey the day before must have been arduous indeed.

* * *

Edward watched his bride sleep. She was turned towards him, her hands daintily folded under her cheek. In the early morning light, she was revealed to him in all her beauty. His heart ached for his love of everything about her.

Her skin was pure and soft and warm and intoxicating. It was true, her hair was shorter than most women's but her curls framed her face so angelically. When he twined his fingers through them, they felt like spun silk.

Though covered with linens now, her shapely body delighted him. He remembered how soft and smooth she was, how she wrapped around him, how warm and perfect she felt.

Then, he recalled how Bella teased him and he smiled. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, having not been able to imagine how she would respond to their love making. His father had cautioned patience and care and warned that there might be tears but he had not said anything about laughter.

His joy in her multiplied when they discovered her breasts were delightfully sensitive to his touch. She had not teased at all that time. She answered each caress with passion and desire. His heart leaped to remember it.

Not surprisingly_, Sir Edward_ did, as well.

"_Behave yourself, gentleman. It seems you shall get your fill if you practice patience."_ Edward sternly lectured his single-minded cock.

But he still couldn't help himself; he gathered Bella into his arms and pulled her to his chest. She sleepily nuzzled his neck and murmured, "Good morning, husband."

"It _is_ a good morning, wife." Edward kissed her nose and ran his hand down her back to cup her bottom.

"I think every morning will be well if I am always awakened thusly," she said.

He pulled her hips against _Sir_ and said, "I can awaken you _thrustly_, if you would prefer."

Bella choked on a giggle, which in a less delicate flower would have been called a snort. "That is not a proper word, Edward."

He chuckled. "It is; 'tis a word I have just coined. I believe you can easily understand its meaning."

"I think your body speaks without the bother of words." She rubbed her bare hip against _Sir _who responded enthusiastically.

"Does yours, my Bella?" he asked earnestly, watching her closely as he did. "Does your body also speak to mine? Does it enjoy my loving embrace?" He knew that their lovemaking had been uncomfortable for her at first but hoped that had passed.

"I think my body is learning but 'tis a new language you teach it. Such as that had been completely foreign until yester-eve. Though, it also seems to be an apt pupil and eager for the next lesson."

She smiled and wrapped her arms about his neck and continued, "Or mayhaps 'tis only because it has so competent a tutor."

He shook his head in wonder, gazing in to her trusting eyes and said, "I must confess, 'twas a foreign tongue to me last night, as well. God must have attuned our hearts so perfectly that it came to us naturally."

"I am glad, then, that we learn together."

"Even at this moment?" Edward smoothed the skin along her backside, down her thigh, and then hitched her leg up over his hip pulling her even closer.

She felt the burgeoning sparks such intimacy stirred, and she gasped, her eyes darkening with desire. "Even now, my heart."

He kissed her as he turned her on her back and soon they were schooling each other once again in the agreeable lessons of love.

As they wended their way down this delightful path, Bella noticed a difference in the morning. At night, the candle glow had cast soft shadows across his face and she had been bemused with the newness of everything. But in this morning's light, she could see the depth of love in his eyes as he gazed down at her. She could feel him parting her and filling her, the hardness of his thighs as her legs wrapped around him, the prickle of his morning beard as he pressed his lips to her neck, all the while taking and giving until fiery bursts of bliss bloomed upon her very soul. She was left replete and gasping in wonder at the surprising ecstasy.

He kissed her temple when all was done and held her almost as closely as he had just moments before and sighed. "This must be what heaven promises, for I cannot imagine a more perfect existence than to lie here with you and loving you."

She was content to be held in his arms, her head resting upon his shoulder, a soft smile on her lips as she thought on that. 'Twas very heaven-like, indeed. Then, she happened to notice the lack of shadows upon the floor and realized it was much later in the morning than she first thought.

She sat up, pulling the sheet up with her. "What's the time, do you think?" She was sure she had never been abed this late in her life and she was positive she would regret her slug-a-bed ways later in the day.

She looked down at him as he laid there in the shaft of sunlight that shone through a gap in the drapes. Her gaze caressed his disheveled hair, bare chest, strong arms and firm stomach. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he watched her perusal.

He traced a lazy finger down her back. "It doesn't matter today, m'love. We shall spend it as we please and this surely pleases me."

"You expect to spend this whole day abed?" Bella's eyes were wide as she forced her gaze back up to his. Her color was high. She had indeed married quite a handsome man.

"Couldn't we?"

"If you didn't wish to eat we could, but I'm sure you've developed quite a manly appetite considering your labors of late." Bella's arched brow spoke volumes in itself.

He laughed just as another thought occurred to Bella that changed her expression to one of discomposure. "Angela! We told her to come at ten. Surely it has gone that by now. What must she be thinking of us?"

Bella began to scramble from the bed, trying to modestly cover herself at the same time. The only way she could do that was to pull the sheet along with her and that left Edward completely uncovered. He didn't seem to mind. He rose up on his on his elbow and watched his bride as lovely glimpses of her body were revealed to him where the sheet parted.

"I doubt that Angela thinks much about it. She probably believes we are sleeping late from being overtired due to excitement of yesterday."

Studiously averting her eyes from her husband's pleasing display, Bella picked up her robe and scooted behind the screen in the corner of the room. She found she was in dire need of the chamber pot, but she was definitely not going to use it while Edward was in the room. She was feeling more and more comfortable with their marital intimacies but that was too familiar, she thought.

As Bella donned her robe, she decided it would be best to use the one in Rosalie's room. However, just as she was preparing to leave the shelter of the screen, she discovered that her husband had no qualms about performing even the most basic of intimacies in her presence. She knew that rushing sound she heard wasn't water pouring from the pitcher or rain sheeting off the roof.

She stood there behind the screen with wide eyes, trying to decide whether she was mortified, flattered, or amused. A smile quirked her lips as she reckoned it was a mixture of all three. Evidently, living intimately with a man was going to be a very enlightening experience.

She waited until she was sure he had finished and then shyly popped out from behind the screen. Edward was standing in the middle of their room pulling up his breeches. His back was to her and she got an entrancing view of his backside. _That_ caused her eyes to sparkle and her cheeks to redden once more. She was becoming quite besotted with looking at her groom.

"I shall be back in a bit, m'love," she said. She quickly ducked out of the room and ran to the next chamber. It had done her bladder no good waiting as he emptied his and she gritted her teeth until she reached the blessed relief of the chamber pot there.

As she did her business, she remembered that she had heard of newer homes installing lavatoriums, or rooms that were used exclusively for bathing and taking care of personal needs. She wondered if she could convince Edward to install one in their home but she was sure it would be frightful expense. That project would probably have to wait.

When she was finished, she was glad to find there was fresh water in the wash stand pitcher. She was proud that Angela had been so diligent about her duties. She would be sure to praise her when she next saw her. She washed her face and hands in the cold water and decided a sponge bath was in order.

Truly, she was surprised to discover she wasn't quite as fresh smelling as she usually was of a morning. She knew the most likely cause. Though as she washed, she found she regretted washing his scent off of her. She sighed with a bemused smile on her face. She loved him so much.

When she finished tidying up, she returned to their room but Edward was not there. She supposed he was elsewhere in the house, probably looking for something to eat. She would hurry to get that in order right away.

Quickly, she got dressed in her normal attire, relieved she wouldn't have to wear the farthingale under these skirts. She combed her hair, pinned on her cap and then turned to straighten their bed chamber.

She grimaced at the linens on their bed as she noticed they would have to be laundered. That had to be expected, she supposed. It seemed that everywhere she turned there was something new about her life as a wife that she didn't quite expect. Truly, she felt a little at sea over it.

She was just smoothing the counterpane over fresh sheets as Edward entered the room. He carried a tray but he looked disappointed.

"I was hoping you had gone back to bed."

"Oh." Bella stood and stared at her husband. It wouldn't have dawned upon her to return to bed when it was almost full noon but she hated to disappoint her husband.

Edward carried the tray over to the small table next to the fireplace and set it down, "I thought we could share our repast here."

"Did you make food, Edward?" Bella was both surprised and skeptical. She knew the limited extent of his cookery skills.

"Nothing so grand as that. I found a loaf of bread, some butter, and strawberry preserves in the larder. I put the tea on, as well. I am not so adept at making coffee." He shrugged and stood there in his shirt sleeves and breeches, barefooted and tussle-haired looking very much like a boy who was caught off guard.

Bella's heart was touched and she put her hand on his arm. "You did this for me? That's quite the dearest thing anyone has ever done. Thank you."

His eyes blazed down at her and he said, "I would do anything for you, wife. Anything." He looked a little askance over at the tray on the table and ran his fingers through his hair. "Even putter around in the pantry."

She laughed. "Sit down in yon chair, Edward, and I shall prepare a plate for you."

As the tea steeped, Bella sliced the bread and speared a slice with a long fork so she could toast it over the low fire in the fireplace. When one side was golden brown, she toasted the other side.

As she worked, Edward said, "Angela arrived when I was in the kitchen. She is down there now, though she offered to bring up the tray. I instructed her to work in the kitchen until she was called. I think she's preparing our dinner."

"She has proven to be quite a good servant, Edward. Perhaps we can extend her duties?"

"How so?"

"Mayhap she could now stay the nights? She could take my old room in the kitchen. That way we would not have to leave the door unlatched in the evening."

"The door unlatched? What do you mean?"

"Since Angela would stay with her mother at night, the back door was left unlocked so she could get inside in the mornings before the family was awake."

"That will not do!" Edward immediately thought of the danger James James posed to his wife. "Aye, have the girl stop here in the nights. It would be useful, I think, to have her nearby in the evenings anyway. No matter what, our doors must always be kept locked at night." Edward watched his wife as she stooped on the hearth intently making the toast. If anything ever happened to her, he would not know what he would do. For certain, he would wish to die himself.

Bella had finished toasting the bread and rose to sit in the chair opposite Edward but he smiled and patted his lap. "Here is your seat, madam. I find that one is too far away."

"But how can we eat in such a position?" Truly, her man was surprising.

"I thought we could feed each other. Let me show you." He fixed a cup of tea with plenty of milk and sugar, then leaned back so that she could sit on his lap. As she settled there, he put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her. "The only rule for this is that we must share a kiss between each bite."

"I think that would distract me from the eating."

"'Tis a good distraction, yes?"

"Aye, the best." She smiled at him as he held a piece of the toast, slathered with butter and jam, to her lips and she took a bite. There was a dab of jam caught on her lip and smiling, Edward kissed her, teasing the bit of sweetness with his tongue. Immediately, she felt as though she had melted from the inside out and she leaned into his kiss.

He pulled away and she whispered, "Edward."

He smiled tenderly at his wife and said, "'Tis my turn to be fed, m'love."

Regaining her wits, she blinked and leaned over to pick up the toast and held it to his lips. He took a bite, his eyes never leaving hers, chewed and swallowed. "Now, you must kiss me."

She pressed her lips to his and plunged back into bliss. He parted his lips and touched hers with his tongue and when she opened her own, she found she could taste the sweetness of the strawberries upon his. She moaned softly.

"I take great delight having you on my lap. To think we did this the first time only two days ago. I believe this is the manner we should always eat."

"Aye, we have become quite adept at the position I am thinking."

"We are wearing too many clothes to make it truly effective, though." Edward grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Bella squirmed on his lap and chuckled. "Not so many that I cannot tell what is prodding my backside. I couldn't understand why ye were carrying around a pole in your breeches t'other day. Little did I know..."

"_Little_, madam? I should take offense, I think." Edward's lips quirked as he tried to stifle a smile.

"Well as to that, 'tis a matter of comparison, don't ye think?"

It was Edward's turn to blink. "Comparison?" Whom had she compared him to? He was beginning find little tendrils of possessiveness growing alongside his love for her.

"Aye, 'tis not so big as a bull but not so small as a dog."

Edward snorted. "Bella, I did not know you had made such a study of the male form."

"Not a purpose, mind you, but once I ran wailing to my father thinking the bull was sickening with a growth. Father about split his sides from laughter."

Edward soon thought he would, too. He held her close as he laughed, his merriment soon turning to bliss. His wife was _delightful._ Everything about her pleased him.

He sighed. "Oh, my Bella, I don't know how I enjoyed my life before you came into it."

"I shall try to insure you will always enjoy your life with me, Edward. 'Tis as it should be."

They spent another pleasant hour feeding each other and teasing, in love and laughter. Bella had decided that for all the unexpected surprises of marriage, there was much joy in it as well. She was pleased with her current state and would endeavor to make sure Edward would always be pleased with his as well.

* * *

Mrs. Crowley had warned Angela that newlyweds preferred to spend their time alone and not to importune upon them unless strictly necessary. The girl would be glad to see her idol, Miss Isabella, again but as yet, the lady had not made an appearance. It had been at least an hour since Mr. Cullen took the tray upstairs. She hoped her mistress wasn't sickening for something. The only time her mother ate from a tray had been when she was abed with the birth of her brother, Tyler.

'Twas no matter, though. She had plenty of work to do in the kitchen as dinner needed to be prepared. Her mother had suggested dishes that could wait upon the convenience of the distracted couple.

The girl was sliding a meat pie into the oven when she heard a knock at the front door. Wiping her hands with a damp towel, she took off her work apron and went upstairs to answer it, just as another imperious rap rattled the door knocker. She pulled open the door and was surprised to see the Volturis standing on the porch awaiting her answer.

"Mr. Volturi and family come to call upon Mr. Cullen," Aro said.

"I am sorry, sir, but Mr. Cullen is not at home." Bella had taught Angela the proper forms for receiving callers.

"Bosh, girl. We saw him arrive last eve, did we not, Mrs. Volturi?"

The overly dressed and made up woman answered, "Most certainly, sir. With my own eyes I saw him."

Angela curtsied and said, "Aye, he has arrived in town but currently is not at home. Would you wish to leave your card?"

Though slight of build, Angela stood stolidly in the doorway, refusing to move. She was not going to allow these people to disturb her mistress and master on their honeymoon.

"Do you know when Mr. Cullen _will_ be in, girl?" Mr. Volturi sniffed his disdain.

"I am not exactly certain, sir, but perhaps keep an eye on The Gazette. I am sure the announcement will be made there and they will be receiving thereafter."

This comment caused all kinds of surprise in the various listeners.

"The Gazette?" Mr. Volturi asked.

"Announcement?" Mrs. Volturi wondered.

"THEY?" Miss Volturi screeched.

Angela looked at the callers as if they were crazed. "Aye, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen will announce their marriage in the Gazette and afterwards I am sure they will be receiving visitors."

For the second time in as many days, Mrs. Crowley was prevailed upon for her smelling salts to assist the vaporous Miss Volturi.

**AN: **

**Cock= yep. That's what they called it in the 1700s. I did the research. **_**Cock **_**became too risqué in the 1800s and ****_penis_**** was adopted. I read somewhere that **_**penis**_** is Latin for tail. Latin for the male sex organ is actually ****_gladius_**** (also what they called the short sword the Roman soldiers used.) It's no surprise that they really enjoyed sheathing their gladii. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 21: Idyll**

* * *

Edward and Bella spent a blissful week becoming acquainted with the ways of married life. Edward thought each day was better than the last and he was quite satisfied at being a married man, especially as he was married to the most wonderful lass in the world, his Isabella—his Bella. They spent equal parts in rapture and in laughter, enjoying their play of words as much as their play of love.

They awoke entwined every morning, the sunlight filtering through the drapes casting soft shadows on the shapes their bodies made together. As they lay on their sides back to front, Edward wrapped his arm about Bella's waist. She loved clasping his hand with both of hers and holding it tenderly between her breasts. He slept with his face buried in her hair, fairly wallowing in the light verbena scent that he had long ago associated with her. He always sought to pull her closer, wrapping both arms about her, falling deeper and deeper in love.

He was surprised to find they could futter in this position as well-a happy discovery, indeed. It was pleasing that he could touch her intimately at those times, teasing her breasts with one hand as he caressed her below with the other. Bella was always willing to allow him his pleasure in any manner he chose to seek it, but oh, how it thrilled him when she took the lead in their conjugal dance.

Though tempting, they did not spend all the days in bed, although they lingered there long into the morning. After they arose, they'd share a leisurely breakfast, then help each other to bathe and dress for the day. Bella was considering moving the full-immersion tub upstairs. Surely, there'd be room for two in it? She had learned enough about her husband to know bathing with her would please him rather than shock him.

When they descended from their bedroom bower, they'd spend their days in leisure; making music together in the small drawing room during the day or reading companionably in Edward's study. It was too warm for a fire, so they sat on either side of the unlit hearth, sometimes perusing their books silently or at other times reading aloud to one another. It was a slice of heaven for the both of them.

Meals were spent sharing conversation and discussing their hopes for the future. Angela insisted upon providing all the cookery and chores and for the moment, Bella was glad to let her. Edward was an unexplored country to her and she wanted to spend this quiet time away from the world learning his geography.

At the end of every day, they'd joyfully retire to the delights of their bed.

They hadn't ventured far from their bed chamber their first day but for the rest of the week, they did try to keep more circumspect. After all, Angela couldn't run the household entirely on her own without her mistress' guiding hand. There was little else to disturb their honeymoon, their little maid made sure of that. The girl had to fend off Mr. and Mrs. Volturi a few more times during the week. She was beginning to fear for the strange couple's right minds as she told them the same thing each time they called, that they should wait for an announcement in the Gazette. They never seemed to understand that meant to leave the newlyweds alone.

Angela was now spending her nights tucked up in the little bed in Bella's old room off of the kitchen. She was pleased with her new responsibilities and didn't miss her home too much. In fact, for the first time in her life she not only had a bed to herself but a chamber as well. She fairly glowed with pride. It did help, however, that her mother was just the next door over and she was able to see her daily. Her little brother Tyler now made free of the Cullen's kitchen as much as he did Mr. Banner's. The result of that was he was put to work in both places but he had no qualms over that. He was an active child and liked to be helpful.

When the week had passed, the time came for the newlyweds to re-enter the world. With a lingering kiss at their door, Edward bid his bride adieu and was off about his business in town. He had several aims that day. First, he would put an announcement in the local paper that would inform the world that Mr. and Mrs. Cullen were now at home to callers. He had thought long of how he would phrase the brief notice and settled upon,

_"In Alexandria on the 3rd of this Month, Mr. Edward_

_Cullen of Annapolis to Miss Isabella Swan of Virginia."_

It would be printed in the column listing all of the marriages being published that day. He felt this simple phrase would most accurately describe their circumstances at the time of their wedding without any overstatement. He desired to protect Bella from any gossip due to her previous circumstances as his housekeeper, though it was bound to be known eventually. Fortunately, it wasn't unheard of that housekeepers sometimes married their masters, and thus becoming the mistress o'er the master.

He also ordered the printer to produce calling cards for his Bella. She would need those as she made her way through Annapolis society. The small, embossed cards would simply read:

_Mrs. Edward Cullen_

She would use these when she made formal calls upon the society doyennes of the town. He smiled as he paid the fee of a few pence. How those three words made his heart soar.

After leaving the printing office, he stopped by the constable's to see if there had been any word on the dastard, James James. Mr. Bertie was affable and reassuring.

"Aye, Mr. Cullen, I had word from Alexandria describing the goings on of the scoundrel, and I have doubled the men watching for him here. Word was sent to Lancaster as well, to warn the Germans of Mr. James' nefarious ways. Don't you worry, sir. We shall soon catch him and then he will be made to pay for his evil deed."

Edward thanked the man for his diligence and was soon walking up to Mr. Chase's front door to discover when he might resume his studies. Mr. Chase was delighted to see him and even more so when Edward shared the news of his recent marriage.

"Ah, Mr. Cullen! Good tidings, good tidings! And how do you find married life?" Samuel swept his hand toward the comfortable armchair across from him in his study, indicating that Edward should sit.

"I find it well, sir, very well indeed." Edward's smile said more than his words, and Mr. Chase, a man very adept at reading a man's meaning by expression alone, knew that here was a man truly smitten. He smiled, remembering that feeling of first love.

"Your wife isn't a local girl?"

"No, sir. She's late from England but we became acquainted here in Annapolis. She moved to Alexandria last month."

Mr. Chase was puzzled as he thought he knew every family of note in town. "Your wife's name is…?"

"She was Miss Isabella Swan."

"I don't believe I ever had the honor of knowing her." Mr. Chase was truly perplexed. He had never heard of the lass and yet, Edward, who had been busy studying law at his side the past many weeks in addition to being in mourning, had found the time to meet, court, and marry her?

"We shall have to remedy that soon, sir. It would be our pleasure to have you and your wife for supper one eve." Edward hoped Bella would be agreeable to that. They hadn't discussed the entertaining she would be expected to do as his wife.

"That would be something to anticipate, Edward. Thank you."

"I shall have my wife issue an invitation soon, sir. We look forward most earnestly to the honor of your company."

The gentlemen went on to discuss Edward's course of study and it was decided that he'd pick up where he left off the following morning. It was nearing noontime and Mrs. Chase arrived in the study to call them both to dinner.

"Oh, madam, thank you very much for the offer, but my wife is expecting me at home." Edward bowed politely.

"Wife, Mr. Cullen? When you were called away suddenly for business, we had no idea that your business concerned the condition of your heart!"

Mrs. Chase was indeed surprised. She had heard that Jane Volturi had had her eye on Mr. Cullen but as he hadn't been in company, a courtship had been difficult to foster. _My, my, _she thought, _that young miss will have her nose out of joint at this turn of affairs._

"Yes, Mrs. Chase, we were wed while I was in Alexandria. I will be delighted to introduce my wife to you very soon. In fact, I have invited you and Mr. Chase to supper. I will have Mrs. Cullen write to you the arrangements."

"Oh no, Mr. Cullen, 'tisn't proper for the newlyweds to host their first public appearance, you must be our guests. In fact, I will have a supper in your honor this week and invite other friends you must know. We can have dancing and cards as well. It will be lovely!"

"Mrs. Chase you are much too kind but I take pleasure in your generosity. I accept on behalf of my bride and myself. It will be our delight." Edward bowed again.

"Thursday night it shall be, sir. I shall send the details to Mrs. Cullen anon."

"You are most gracious, Mrs. Chase." Edward was all grins, truly looking forward to introducing his bride to the world. He turned to Mr. Chase and bowed once more. "I shall see you tomorrow morn, sir. Our usual time at eight of the clock?"

"Eight of the clock! And you a newly groomed husband? Let us say nine would be a more felicitous hour." Mrs. Chase tittered and Mr. Chase clapped Edward on the back as he and his wife escorted the young man to the front door.

Edward's ears were a little red from the inferences the Chases made but just thinking about his Bella awaiting him at home made his step a little livelier. He felt he had been apart from her too long.

He took his front porch steps two at a time and knocked on the door, impatiently awaiting its answer. It was locked, of course. They had agreed to keep the front door latched both day and night and the back door locked during the night for safety's sake.

Bella was setting their dinner on the dining room table when she heard his knock and with an excited skip or two, she ran to open the door. With a bright smile, she welcomed her husband with open arms.

She stood in his embrace and smiled up at him. "I missed you, husband."

"And I missed you, wife." He leaned down and kissed her nose and when she lifted her face, he kissed her lips as well. "We must contrive a way to always attend to our duties together instead of apart."

She laughed and took his arm as they walked to the dining room. "I am sure Mr. Chase would think us both daft if I were to attend his lectures at your side."

"He probably would be flattered having such a lovely lady attending to his words but I am afraid you'd find it fairly dull. Learning the law is a tiresome business. Speaking of which, I go back to my studies tomorrow." He pulled her chair out so that she could sit, then took his seat next to her.

"That's all to the good, isn't it?" Bella asked as she took a spoonful of savory asparagus soup. She had been delighted to discover a bed of that vegetable growing in the kitchen garden. Since it was a perennial plant, she could look forward to many years of harvesting it. However, the creation of that day's soup was the last of it to be had this year.

"Yes. The sooner I get back to it, the sooner I can be done with it. Our marriage will be announced in the next edition of the Gazette, so we can expect callers after that. Incidentally, we are to be fêted at the Chase's this Thursday evening. Mr. and Mrs. Chase are holding a supper party in our honor. I'm afraid our delightful seclusion is at an end."

"What a very kind thing for them to do. It will ease our way into society here."

They ate quietly for a moment until Bella noticed Edward's solemn expression. "We couldn't stay shut away forever, my love. People would think we were odd indeed if we tried."

Edward chuckled. "I have to admit, keeping you all to myself does have its appeal but I suppose we would be derelict in our responsibilities if we turned into hermits."

"That wouldn't be possible even if you wished. I had a letter from Rosalie informing us that she and Mr. Whitlock will be back with us on the morning tide tomorrow."

"I suppose that will mean I shall have to migrate back down to the head of the table." Edward was surprised at the melancholy he felt that their idyll was indeed over.

Hearing his sigh, Bella put her hand tenderly over his as it rested upon the table. "Do not fret, husband. In my heart, 'twill always be our honeymoon."

A familiar, impish twinkle appeared in her husband's eye as he teased, "In our bed chamber as well, I hope."

With that, the young couple decided to spend the rest of their day in that chamber fully taking advantage what was most likely their last evening alone in the house for a good while to come.

The next morning Edward discovered that getting to Mr. Chase by nine o'clock was much more difficult than he had imagined. He was distracted several times by the sweet armful he held close in their bed. It didn't help that he had divested her of her nightgown much earlier in the evening and her body was soft and warm and wonderfully connected to his.

After a hurried breakfast, and a sweet goodbye at the door with her husband, Bella sent Angela to tidy their meal while she withdrew to the morning room to address the household budget.

Edward's income was adequate but meager. With his marriage, he had inherited a small sum from his maternal grandfather. It wasn't a fortune but with judicious planning it would carry them through until Edward could get his legal practice established. There was also the room and board that both Rosalie and Jasper paid.

Edward did not wish to sell the old necklace he had bought from Bella, saying that it had sentimental meaning to him now. She smiled to herself as she thought of his endearing ways but then her smile quickly turned into a grimace. She needed to write Mrs. Cheney to inquire about Mrs. Cope's situation. She promised herself to find a way to help her old friend.

Bella made up a shopping list, and planned to go to market that morning to see how far she could stretch their pence. Angela would go with her. Out of concern for her safety, Edward had requested she never go about town alone. Understanding his worry, she would do as he asked even though it interfered with getting chores done in a timely manner.

After completing her list, Bella went down to the kitchen to see if Angela was ready to go to market. She found the girl busily snapping green beans into a bowl set on the table in front of where she stood.

"Ah Angela, I see the vegetable garden is producing."

"Aye, madam. I picked an apron full of beans this morning. They will do well for dinner today, I think."

"That sounds lovely, my dear." Bella reached over to grab a handful of beans so she could assist in the chore but she was arrested in her movement by the pattern of the bowl Angela was shelling the beans into.

"Angela, where did you find this bowl?"

"This bowl, mistress? Why, I found it sitting on the table in the scullery the other day. I couldn't figure how it got so out of place."

"Was there anything in the bowl?"

"No, madam, but it needed washing. I cleaned it and put it back in the china cupboard."

"Did you use hot water and some soap scrapings to wash it thoroughly?"

"I did, madam." Angela was beginning to wonder why Bella was so interested in the bowl.

"You scrubbed it well, did you?"

"Aye, just as you taught me."

Bella nodded. "It once contained a virulent poison and I had it put by for safe-keeping in case the constable would wish to see it."

Angela just stood there with wide eyes. "Truly ma'am, there was nothing in it."

"Hmmmmmm." Bella went on shelling the beans but her mind was concerned about this new problem.

What had happened to those death cap mushrooms?

***  
Lancaster, Pennsylvania

The bustling market was filled with dozens of men and women examining goods and bartering spiritedly with merchants. It was a beautiful late spring morn and the blue skies were dotted with cottony clouds as the people went about their business.

The spying man was vexed as he stood in a shadowy alley. It was easy for him to tell the men from the women but that's where the ease ended. All the women looked alike. They were dressed in identical black frocks with white aprons and black poke bonnets. It didn't help that he truly couldn't remember the features of the drab from the ship and with the deep bonnets, he couldn't even guess at the color of their hair. He remembered she was young but there many young ones here this day.

This was an impossible task he had set himself, he decided. He'd come to Pennsylvania with the law on his heels only to be stymied by the fact his quarry was impossible to find. And the fact he wasn't Amish himself made him stand out like a sore thumb. There was no subtle and sly asking about in taverns for there were none the Amish patronized. They kept themselves to themselves and that made for an impossible hunt.

James was deciding that this was all in all a bad idea, this coming to wreak vengeance on the girl. He was half way to resolving he couldn't tarry here in hopes of finding her. He knew he was running out of time. He backed into a deeper shadow as the town crier strode past the alley's opening, climbed atop a low platform in the market square, and vigorously rang his bell.

"Oyez, Oyez, Oyez! All draw near to hear news!"

The market place quieted and people turned to listen attentively.

The crier unfurled his scroll and spoke in a stentorian voice, "MURDER and MAYHEM are visited upon Lancaster. One James James, known DESPOILER of virtue and heinous TAKER OF LIFE, is thought to be in the vicinity. He is ENGLISH and of the SAILING TRADE. If seen, report to the authorities immediately. He should be considered a danger to life and limb."

The crier then repeated his cry in what James supposed was German, but he wasn't willing to loiter to make sure. Before the end of the German version, he had already passed the town limits and was headed south.

His canine companion kept to his heels and cocked an attentive ear as James mumbled, "There's better chances in Annapolis, I'm thinking."

**AN:**

**Futter – an archaic term for sexual intercourse. See, there's more than one eff word.**

**James James was a colonist, not English, but the Amish tended (and still do) to call everyone not Amish, English. I am sure that pisses off the French.**

* * *

**Chapter 22: The Party**

* * *

As the morning tide was early, Edward stayed home from Mr. Chase's to welcome Jasper and Rosalie back to Annapolis. Unfortunately that meant he was at his leisure until their arrival, while Bella had tasks to see to. Leaving her slumbering husband in bed, Bella was up early, making sure all was in order. Though she was excited to see Jasper and Rose again, she was a little anxious as to how they would respond to her now that she was mistress of the house rather than servant.

"Angela, keep an eye on that roast on the spit there. If it starts browning too fast, pull it further away from the fire. I want it ready in good time for our dinner. Meanwhile, I shall take this tray up to Mr. Cullen. It's time he was bestirring."

"Yes'm," Angela answered as she settled on a stool next to the wide hearth, some darning in her hands. In addition to the roast, the appetizing smell of baking bread permeated the bright, homey kitchen. Bella looked around and realized for the first time that it was _her_ kitchen. This was _her_ home. Angela was _her _servant. A curious mixture of pride and humility filled her heart. Edward had given her so much but she knew the most wonderful gift he gave her was himself. She was filled to bursting with love for the man.

She would have skipped up the stairs to their bedroom but she was afraid she'd spill the coffee. Taking a more sedate pace, she gingerly opened their chamber door and stepped inside to find Edward still sprawled upon the bed, sound asleep. Carefully shutting the door behind her, she sat the tray down on the table next to the hearth and turned to face him. Her breath caught in her throat and she could swear her heart skipped a beat or two.

He was lying on his back and slightly turned to his side, the morning sunlight illuminating his body with a heavenly glow. Her heart started beating again as her eyes traced the contours of his shoulders; the slight ridges of muscles along his chest and abdomen, the feathering of hair that grew upon his chest and downwards. The white sheet rode low on his hips.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, surprised to find her mouth was dry and that her insides felt like jelly. She took a step closer and continued to study him, her mouth slightly agape in wonder at how appealing he was to her. _He was hers_. She could hardly believe it.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and gently ran her fingers through his hair as it splayed across the bolster. Looking tenderly down at him, she started singing a soft melody. "_The water is wide, I cannot get o'er, Neither have I wings to fly, Give me a boat that can carry two, And both shall row, my love and I_…"

Edward's eyes opened with the first notes of her song. He was awestruck as he listened, hardly daring to breathe lest she stop and this living dream end. When she came to the end of the stanza, he caressed her face, then slowly sat up and reverently kissed her lips.

"That was my second most happy awakening," he whispered against them.

"Your second most?" she asked as she pulled back a little.

"Aye, my most happy was the morning after we wed when I realized you were mine forevermore, to love, to hold, and to cherish." He kissed her again.

She could so easily get lost in his kisses but she knew they had responsibilities to see to that day and she reluctantly sat back from his arms.

"I brought you your breakfast, love. The tide will turn in an hour and we'll have our guests not too long after."

"Then, I shan't dawdle." He flung the sheet off and was revealed to her in all his glory. Indeed, _Sir Edward _was _quite_ glorious at the moment. She blushed and looked away. She was still a little shy about his body, though she loved it most dearly.

"I shall get the hot water for you to shave." She picked up his robe from the bottom of the bed and handed it to him. "I'll be back anon."

Edward watched her hurry out of their room as he tied the sash of his robe around his waist. He looked down and saw what caused her flight.

_Sir Edward, haven't you had your fill, yet_? He shook his head knowing the answer.

He'd never have his fill of her.

Rosalie and Jasper arrived and settled back into the Charles Street household as though they had never left. There was no discomfiture about Bella's new role and life went on pretty much as it did before except that Bella and Edward were now in the happy role of husband and wife.

Rosalie was glad to help with household chores and since the Chase's party was in just a few days, there was much to do. Bella planned to wear her wedding dress but Rosalie wanted a new fichu to match her best gown. The fichu itself was easy enough to make, being simply a triangular scarf worn about the shoulders and tied in the front. But Rosalie wanted to include in cut lace work to match the lace already on her gown. It would be beautiful but it would take time to accomplish.

Jasper's demeanor seemed somewhat changed from the down-at-the-mouth mood he had been in when Bella had last seen him. Perhaps he'd come to terms with Miss Brandon's departure, although that would surprise Bella. But it was true, Jasper had a spark in his eye and a set look to his face that denoted a sea change for the young man.

He still loved to visit the kitchen and had fast wound Angela around his finger. She was as bad as anyone in indulging Mr. Whitlock's sweet tooth but Bella noticed she did it for a price. He had to tell her a story about some faraway place that the girl had never been to. From what Bella overheard, she wasn't sure Jasper had ever been either.

"It's true, Angela, the men of Florida are ten feet tall and the women not far behind them. Also, they drink of a spring that keeps them eternally young so they live hundreds of years. I've seen it with my own eyes, I have."

"Go on with you. Who ever heard of a man being too tall to walk upright inside a house?"

"They don't live in houses, milady. They live in abodes of palm fronds and cypress trees made especially to account for their tremendous heights."

"I don't believe you, Mr. Whitlock. You're japing me."

Jasper looked the epitome of innocence, and said, "Cross my heart. 'Tis the truth, every word of it. Now, that berry tart cooling with its brothers on the table seems to be asking me in particular to attend to its need to be 'et.' Shall we put him out of his misery?"

"I am not sure your story is worth an entire tart, Mr. W, not even a bite of it. Mayhaps a lump of bread dough?"

"You're a cruel miss. You shall slay some poor man to the heart one day, I am certain."

Smiling, Bella left them at their good natured bickering and went upstairs carrying a basket of linens she had just ironed. She had been doing an inordinate amount of linen washing lately and blushed to think of the reason why. She was wondering if Edward would object if she put a half sheet down on the bed as she did when her monthly came upon her. It would be easier to have to wash only that rather than the whole of the bedding.

She frowned as she thought about her monthly. She hadn't had one since she left England. She had expected it soon after landing in Maryland but it had never appeared. She hoped that she hadn't ruined herself by taking Mrs. Cheney's ship-wife's potion. She and Edward hadn't spoken of a having family but both knew that in the normal way of things they should expect children, sooner rather than later, God willing.

She hoped she could bear children for Edward but she also knew if she didn't bleed again, it would be most unlikely. That sent threads of worry throughout her heart but she immediately put it out of her mind. They had time and if she continued as she had been, she would seek the offices of a doctor. In the meantime, she'd pray for God's blessing and healing if she needed it.

When she got to the main floor of the house, she remembered she left a cap she had been making to wear this Thursday in the morning room. It was finished and she needed to put it away in her dresser. She set the basket of laundry down on the bottom step of the stairs that led to the bedrooms and went into the morning room to fetch it.

When she opened the door, she was shocked to see Rosalie and Mr. McCarty in an intimate embrace. They stood in front of the fireplace with their arms wrapped tightly about each other as they kissed. Guiltily, they jumped apart at her entrance.

"Oh! Excuse me," Bella exclaimed and began to back out of the room.

"No, Mrs. Cullen, I will take my leave now." Emmett said. He whispered something to Rosalie and then, with color high on his cheeks, departed. Bella, in her embarrassment at witnessing such a scene, cast her eyes down as he passed her in the doorway. Her glance happened to fall across the front of his breeches and she saw a bulge there. A little over a week ago she probably wouldn't have noticed it or realized what it was but now, with her own experiences making her very familiar with the matter, she was more than shocked, she was stunned. Just what had the two been up to in here?

She looked at Rosalie who hadn't moved. Neither woman knew what to say, though both recognized the impropriety of what had just happened. Remembering what she was about when she entered the room originally, Bella fetched her cap and left without saying a word.

As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, she realized what a pickle she was in. As the mistress of the house, she was responsible for the well-being of the family within. She was supposed to see to the chaperonage of her sister-in-law and yet, she hadn't even known Mr. McCarty had been in the house. Should she report to Edward what had just happened? Or should she first speak to Rosalie? And if she spoke to Rosalie, what should she say? Oh, what a conundrum!

As she put the linens away in the press, she heard Rosalie come up the stairs and stand hesitatingly across from her. She turned to face her sister-in-law and saw that she was biting her lip. This bit of insecurity surprised Bella for Rosalie was normally a forthright person. Bella didn't say anything; she simply waited for Rosalie to speak.

"Sister, I do apologize for what you witnessed earlier. It was unseemly."

"Your apology is accepted, Rosalie. It is apparent to me that you care for Mr. McCarty very much."

"I do. I wish to marry him."

"Yet, you are not engaged for the purpose as yet?"

"No. He has not asked."

"No? I am quite sure he wishes to. It is evident in his every deed."

"It would appear so. I don't know why he waits." Rosalie looked a bit frustrated.

"Perhaps Edward should speak to him?"

"Please do not tell my brother of what you saw!" Rose was panicked at the thought.

"Rosalie, he has a right to know what goes on beneath his own roof."

"But Edward has been known to let his feelings o'er take his sense. I am afraid he will be harsh to Mr. McCarty."

Bella remembered some episodes from their own past that might make Edward show more compassion for the couple than Rosalie expected. She smiled at her worried sister-in-law. "Dear Rosalie, your brother might not be as hard-hearted as you think. I believe you should speak with him of the matter and get his view upon it. In the meantime, since it is my duty to preserve propriety in this household, I would ask that you not see Mr. McCarty alone unless he has permission from your family to do so. That would remove the both of you from temptation."

"I promise, Isabella. I do apologize again." Rosalie blushed.

"Speak no more of it, truly. But do confer with your brother. He is very wise about so many things."

"I will think on it." Rose impulsively kissed Bella on her cheek. "Thank you, dear sister. I am so glad to call you so."

"So you don't think my marriage to your brother was a case when he 'allowed his feelings o'er take his sense'?"

"Oh no Isabella, he showed perfect sense in that!" Rosalie smiled happily and kissed her sister-in-law again and then disappeared into her bed chamber.

Bella smiled, shook her head and went back to her chores. She truly hoped Rosalie would speak to Edward about Mr. McCarty—and she truly wondered where the sense was in Edward to marry one such as herself.

By the time the night of the party arrived, Bella was a bundle of anxiety. She peered into the hallway mirror as she waited for the hired carriage to arrive and paced back and forth across the foyer, wringing her hands. What if without knowing she said something inappropriate that would shame Edward? What if she looked like a common weed amidst flowers?

Rosalie had assured her several times that she looked quite lovely in the gown she had worn at her wedding. It was the only dress she had formal enough to wear that night. She had to admit that particular shade of blue did set off her pale complexion well enough. She smoothed her hands over the silken fabric fairly pleased by how the gown turned out. She giggled to herself as she remembered Edward's expression as he earlier watched her strap the wire cage about her waist before putting on the gown.

"Egad, Isabella! What is that device?"

"'Tis a farthingale. It holds my panniers aloft," Bella explained as she tied the ribbon around her waist.

"Your panniers?"

"Aye, the wide skirts of my dress. They don't stay up by enchantment."

Edward studied the construction of ribbon, wires and straps. "You could hide a small child under there."

"There are some farthingales big enough to hide a full grown man."

"Truly?" A particular gleam sparked in Edward's eye and he grabbed her about the waist. "We should attempt that one day, madam."

"Aye, and I can just imagine what you would get up to under there."

"I give my oath, you'd not be displeased." He leaned over and kissed her, distracting her for a full five minutes until she remembered their time was not their own and shooed him off so she could finish her toilette.

Standing in the entry hall, she looked again in to the mirror and adjusted a curl near her ear. There was nothing she could do about her hair. The style of the day was to tease and pad one's long hair into towering sculptures adorned with ribbons, jewels, flowers, fruit, stuffed animals or even, as she had seen one day on the streets of Portsmouth once, a ship with sails fully unfurled. Her short locks would accommodate none of that, so she had to be satisfied with her glossy curls peeping out from under the elaborate cap she had made for the event. It looked well enough, she supposed.

She pinched her cheeks to bring color into them just as Edward came out of his study. He stopped in the doorway to watch. "You are the loveliest woman in the world, Isabella."

She turned to him and smiled bashfully. "Thank you, kind sir."

"You are missing something, however." He walked toward her, his hand in the pocket of his fully cut frock coat.

Wondering what she could have forgotten, Bella quickly brushed her hands down the front of her dress, checking to see if everything was in place. She could find nothing amiss so she looked wonderingly at her husband who was now standing in front of her.

"Here, my love. Turn 'round."

Bella turned to face the mirror again and Edward placed the old pearl necklace she had brought with her from England around her throat and hooked the clasp. The golden "B" hung just below the hollow of her throat.

Bella touched the letter and arched her eyebrow in question looking at Edward's reflection as he stood behind her.

"This bauble is what paved the way for us to wed, so 'tis special to me."

"But people will wonder over much. My name begins with an 'I' not a 'B.'"

"But_ my_ dearest name for you does begin with a 'B.'" He smiled at her as she reddened, remembering that the times he called her Bella usually were while they were mid-relations in bed.

"Edward, there are sure to be questions about this thing. What should we tell those who may ask?"

"We don't have to tell them much. Just say it is a family heirloom and let it go."

At that moment, the carriage pulled up to their door as Jasper and Rosalie clattered down the stairs to join them for the ride. In a flutter of nerves she whispered as Edward handed her into the carriage, "Please stay near me this 'eve."

Looking reassuringly back at her, he said, "Where else would I go?"

All in all, the evening went well. The Chases had invited only a couple of a dozen people. The meal was tasty and well served and the dancing was lively. True to his word, Edward stayed at Bella's side the whole of the evening.

A few tried to separate them, Mr. Volturi being one. "Come now young Cullen, the cards are calling your name."

"Not so loudly that my wife's siren song does not drown it out, sir." Edward bowed politely to Aro, then stepped a little closer to Bella.

Aro sighed. "Well, I suppose that we shall allow a new groom his preference." He continued to mutter to himself as he headed for the parlor where several card tables were set up.

Feeling a little guilty, Bella said, "Edward, if you'd rather play cards, it would be fine. I've no wish to spoil your fun."

His look was incredulous. "M'love, I have no interest at all in leaving your side. Here's where I wish to be and here's where I shall stay."

The musicians started playing in an adjoining room and Mrs. Chase appeared at Bella and Edward's side.

"My dears, since this little gathering is held in your honor, you need to lead us in this first set."

"Oh Mrs. Chase, though I dearly love to dance, since arriving in this land I've not yet had the pleasure. I'm not sure my manner of dance is the same as yours. I was hoping to watch for a moment to make sure." Bella's worries increased at the thought of making Edward look badly.

"Oh we do no fancy minuets here, my dear, just simple country dances. I'm sure you could easily catch on if we have a step or two different."

"Don't worry, my dear wife. I shall guide you safely through the movements." Edward smiled engagingly and she could no longer hesitate. She took his hand as he led her out onto the floor. Jasper soon followed in the set with Miss Alice Brandon as his partner and they stood beside Bella and Edward. Jasper fairly glowed but Miss Brandon wasn't far behind him.

The opening chords announced the dance and Bella curtsied to Edward then to Jasper as both gentlemen did the same to their partners and neighbors—and the dance began. Truly, it wasn't much different from with what Bella was familiar; there was a minor variation here and there but she found it easy to adjust to.

Edward had eyes for no one but Bella as they moved through the dance, though he was startled once as Miss Jane Volturi stumbled against his chest. He kept her from falling and made sure she was steady on her feet. She appeared to have something in her eye from her rapid blinking but he was called to complete the figure of the dance and so left her to the mercy of her partner.

Returning to Bella, he wasn't surprised to see how light on her feet she was and if the dance was different than she was accustomed to, he couldn't tell. At the end, she sank into a deep curtsy and his bow was congratulatory. "You did well, Mrs. Cullen. Were the movements of the dance the same?"

"They were close enough. I am simply glad I didn't embarrass myself."

Edward was pleased at how welcoming the town was to Bella. The Volturis had been a little stiff but he thought that was their normal attitude. Miss Jane simpered and smiled and hid behind her fan but other than that, he could say most everyone was warmly disposed to Bella and himself.

As the night wore on, he could see Bella become more and more at ease and it was very evident to him Annapolis was almost as charmed with her as he was. At a certain point in the evening, she had been asked to dance by Mr. Chase, and as there were surfeit of men that night, there was no lady available for Edward to ask in turn so he stood at the side and watched. A few moments later, Emmett McCarty sidled up to him and stood uncertainly at his side.

Edward nodded a friendly hello and said, "'Tis a pleasant evening, is it not?"

"It is, sir." Emmett chewed on his cheek a bit as though he was unsure about something. He looked around to make sure they couldn't be overheard and then said in a low voice, "Mr. Cullen, I must apologize to you and your wife."

"Apologize?" Edward was surprised, not knowing of anything Emmett needed to feel remorseful about.

"Aye, sir. I must tell you that I do care for your sister, Miss Rosalie Cullen. Sometimes my feelings o'er take my good judgment and, well, your wife saw some ungentlemanly behavior the other day and I am very sorry for it."

Edward frowned. "What sort of behavior did she witness, Mr. McCarty?"

"I was embracing your sister most fervently."

Edward blinked and then a curious feeling overcame him. He was half outraged and half sympathetic, remembering his own circumstances not too long ago. Curiously, those two emotions blended together and evened out to humor. "And sir, was my sister equally as fervent in returning your embrace?"

"I…er…I believe she was, sir."

"And do you plan on making a habit of these embraces?"

"I…would certainly like to."

"Well then Mr. McCarty, there's no choice but for you to marry my sister, so that you will cease shocking my wife with your enthusiasms."

"I would dearly love to, Mr. Cullen, but there's an obstacle."

"Surely my sister's desires aren't the obstacle?"

"No, sir. I don't believe so. Your sister has always been forthright in her wishes concerning the two of us. However, when I announced to my family that I would take a wife, though they were most gratified, they pointed out that our family home was not large enough to accommodate Rosalie and myself as a married couple as well as housing my eight brothers and sisters. In short sir, I am ashamed to say I have no home to take your sister once she has married me and I don't know how long it will be until I do."

Edward thought the solution was obvious and wondered why Mr. McCarty couldn't see it himself. "Sir, why don't you start your married life on Charles Street with us? Rosalie's chamber is large enough to accomodate the both of you. We would enjoy your company."

It was obvious that Emmett had never thought of this solution. "Do you think so? It wouldn't be imposing upon you and Mrs. Cullen?"

"I would have to ask her but I would be surprised if she would be opposed to the idea in the least."

Emmett beamed with happiness. "I bid you most earnestly to ask your wife. Please. I can hardly wait for her answer!"

"I believe you'll have it soon." Edward was watching Bella curtsy to Mr. Chase as the dance was ending and soon Bella was back at her husband's side. Emmett left for the refreshment table leaving Edward the opportunity to ask Bella her thoughts upon housing Mr. and Mrs. McCarty. And of course, as he suspected, Bella was happily disposed to the plan.

When told of her answer, Emmett requested to have a private visit with Miss Cullen the next day and was sent off with a nod and a wink. "How lovely this is all turning out to be," Bella said as she hung on the arm of her husband towards the end of the evening.

"It is indeed. You have been happily admitted to the Annapolis _beau monde_."

"Only because I am your wife, Edward. They'd pay no attention to me at all had I been plain Miss Isabella Swan from Portsmouth."

"I am sure the male half of town would be happy to pay as much attention as you would have desired had they known of you. I count my blessings I was able to keep you to myself until I could convince you to marry me."

Bella was still unused to such compliments and so her cheeks turned cherry red at his remarks. Old Mr. Banner took that moment to pay them his respects before his departure from the party.

"'Twas a jolly evening, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen. I so rarely attend such soirées but am glad I didn't miss this one." He bowed to the young couple who curtsied and bowed in return. As Bella rose, Mr. Banner's attention was caught by the necklace she was wearing.

"I say Mrs. Cullen, that is an unusual trinket you wear." He stared at her décolletage so intently at first Edward was feeling his hackles begin to rise.

Bella put her hand to the pearl necklace and said, "It is unusual; a family piece it is."

The old man looked puzzled. "It reminds me of something I've seen…" In a sudden fog, he nodded, turned and left their side mumbling, "There was a picture…? A story…? Something…?"

"How odd," Bella commented on Mr. Banner's distracted behavior as he left.

"Mr. Banner is odd, m'love. He spends his days immersed in his library and his nights writing about what he's read—a scholar through and through. The necklace may remind him of some verse he read or heard about. Believe me, he'll track it down and then bore you to tears telling you about his obscure discoveries. He lives for such."

Bella chuckled. "Well, I am glad that such little trouble for me gave the man so much enjoyment."

Later on, Bella excused herself to visit the ladies withdrawing room and on her way back to Edward's side she noticed a side door open letting some blessed cool air into the overheated home. So many candles on a June evening coupled with dozens of couples cavorting about made temperatures rise. Bella was tempted by the little breeze and so took a detour to step out upon the veranda at the back of the house and rest a bit in the night air.

She was reveling in cooler temperature outside when she noticed a movement in the garden below. She looked more closely and could see a couple walking along the shell pathways, their heads close together in earnest conversation. Bella squinted her eyes and could make out the familiar figure of Mr. Whitlock. She could tell that his companion was Miss Alice Brandon by her diminutive figure. As she watched, the couple stopped and turned to face each other, their discussion evidently taking all of their attention.

Bella wondered what they could be speaking of so intently. Perhaps they were saying goodbye? She knew the Brandons were leaving town within the month. Were Jasper and Alice planning on starting a correspondence? She hoped for their sake it would end happily for them no matter what their future held. She didn't know Miss Brandon too well, but Jasper was becoming like a brother to her. He deserved much happiness and she hoped he'd have it.

She turned from the scene when she heard her name called and found her husband standing in the doorway. He had been searching for her. "There you are, Mrs. Cullen. I was wondering what was keeping you so long."

"The fresh air lured me outside for a moment. I am revived now." Taking her husband's arm, they returned inside for the rest of the night's entertainment.

It was early morning hours when Rosalie, Edward and Bella returned home by the carriage they came in. Jasper had mentioned to Edward that he would walk home and wouldn't be joining them on their return. Bella was thankful when she could finally curl up in Edward's arms in bed after the long but enjoyable evening. She doubted she even turned over until hours later when loud pounding was heard at their front door.

"Edward! Edward, someone's wanting in down stairs." Bella was already reaching for her robe as she quickly arose from bed. The violent knocking continued as she followed Edward down the stairs and watched him unlock the front door.

To their great surprise, Mr. Brandon, Alice's father, was standing on the front step. When Edward opened the door he pushed in and shouted, "I'll speak to young Jasper Whitlock immediately, sir."

"Mr. Brandon, he's not yet arisen. Please, make yourself easy," Edward said.

"I ask that you wake him then. I must see him this instant!" Mr. Brandon insisted.

"I shall go up and get him, sir." Bella said as she left to run up the stairs, leaving Edward to settle the distraught man in his study. But when she knocked on Jasper's bedroom door, there was no answer.

Bella eased the door open and peeked in. To her surprise, Jasper's bed hadn't been slept in and his chest of drawers was open and emptied. Bella had assumed that Angela had let him in the house sometime during the night but evidently that wasn't the case.

With wide eyes, Bella returned to the gentlemen waiting downstairs. "Mr. Whitlock is not at home."

"Not at home?" Mr. Brandon's tone was skeptical.

"No, sir. His bed has not been slept in. I suspect he did not return home after the Chase's party last night."

Mr. Brandon looked as though he would suffer apoplexy on the spot and he shouted, "And neither has my daughter!"

**AN: **_**The Water is Wide**_** song that Bella sang is very old. If you Google it, there's a sweet version by my lady Joan Baez and the Indigo Girls. Bella sings only the first part because most love songs are depressing from those days. Usually someone dies, or is false, or is gone. What was with the lovers in those days? **

**Cut lace work - where the lace is incorporated into the fabric, not sewn upon it. A picture is on my live journal. Instructions on how to get there are below.**

**Jasper wasn't completely lying to Angela about the native Floridians. When Ponce de Leon landed upon the shores of **_**La Florida**_**, it was Easter time and there were many flowers in bloom, hence the name. The peaceful people that lived in the environs of St. Augustine at the time were Timucuans and they were incredibly tall, especially in comparison to the Spaniards. Ponce de Leon himself was less than five feet. But they weren't as tall as Jasper declared, probably only above six feet. And Ol' Poncie **_**was**_** looking for the fountain of youth, it is said, and there's even a tourist trap in St. Augustine that you can visit and they'll tell you all about it for a price and let you look at life-sized dioramas of the event and even let you drink some nasty spring water they have there. I will say though, last Easter my family and I attended an outdoor sunrise mass at the sight of the first landing and it was beautiful. Visit St. Augustine, if you ever can. It is a wonderful place. Just don't drink the water.**

**Bella's comment that some farthingales were large enough a man could hide under them was true. In fact I've read several stories where a man was being chased by armies or police or angry husbands and he dashed into his ladylove's home and she hid him under her skirts. The searchers searched all over the home but couldn't find him because he was under wraps, so to speak.**

**Apoplexy – what they used to call a stroke or a cerebral hemorrhage or something along those lines. It could be fatal in those days, as it can be now-a-days.**

* * *

**Chapter 23: More Surprises**

* * *

Mr. Brandon, Bella, and Edward stood staring at each other, all of them shocked at the revelation that _both_ Mr. Whitlock and Miss Brandon were missing. Mr. Brandon suddenly dropped into one of the arm-chairs and put his head in his hands and cried, "She's ruined, ruined. Foolish, foolish girl. All my hopes are dashed."

Bella and Edward stared at the gentleman and then at each other, neither one knowing what they should do. Bella was about to lay a comforting hand upon the older gentleman's shoulder when there was a timid knocking at the study door.

A meek Angela stepped inside and said, "I've been asked to give you this, sir."

Fearfully, she held out a letter to her master. She wasn't sure, but something felt very wrong this morning and she hoped she didn't play an unwitting part in the folly. Bella put a reassuring arm about Angela's shoulders and softly directed her to some household duty. The girl nodded and quickly left the room.

Edward scanned the first lines of the letter then said, "'Tis from Mr. Whitlock, sir. Should I read it aloud?"

Mr. Brandon waved a weary hand. "Aye, let's hear what the rapscallion has to say for himself."

Edward read,

"_My Dear Friend,_

_I am sure this morning finds you full of questions and hypotheses but hopefully not over much worry concerning my whereabouts. I presume you have discovered I am not at home and did not pass the evening there. I will assure you that all is as it was destined to be and I am both joyous and exultant._

_Firstly, dear sir, I wish to reassure you that all is well with Miss Brandon. However, by the time you read this letter I am sure she soon will no longer wear that name but the more felicitous one of Mrs. Jasper Whitlock. _

_The abruptness of our marriage is no indication of a lack of our depth of feeling. Miss Brandon and I have long known that we were made for one another. However, the barriers to our felicitous hopes were many and varied and we could not rely upon the magnanimity of our families to lessen them. In fact, our families were in direct opposition to our desires; hers, because of my heritage and mine, because of her probable lack of a portion. _

_At first, we felt we could outwait our families' disapproval but when Mr. Brandon announced he was removing his family to England forthwith, we both understood we'd have to act regardless of the disdain with which the world might view our deed._

_But the both of us being of age, we took fate into our own hands and have happily, lovingly, and wondrously married._

_Wish us well, my dear friend. Worry not, for I have all in hand. _

_Yrs V. Truly,_

_Jasper Whitlock"_

Mr. Brandon's face got redder and redder the further along Edward got in the letter and at its end, he exploded.

"POPINJAY! He's right about one thing and that's certain! Miss Alice Brandon shall have no marriage portion for she is a Brandon no longer! They shall see how long love prevails without the funds to sustain it." The older gentleman scrambled from his seat and stomped to the door, Edward and Bella following in his wake.

"If you should have correspondence with that rogue, please relay the fact that not one red penny will he get from me, not one. From this day, I have no daughter. In two weeks' time, my household will be aboard a ship heading for Old England and I will be well shed of this land, these people, and my erstwhile daughter!"

With that, the gentleman stormed out of the Charles Street residence, slamming the door behind him.

With a puzzled expression, Edward turned to his wife and said, "I wonder how Jasper got the banns read so quickly?"

* * *

The days following the Chase party were busy with the comings and goings of new friends to Charles Street. There was much gossip about Alice and Jasper's elopement but Bella refused to speak of it. She hoped the best for her friend and his new wife but being gossip fodder was not at all a good start to their life together. However, since nothing more was heard from Jasper or Alice, soon all that could be said was said, and the chinwaggers found other people to talk about.

In particular, they were delighted to learn that Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle Cullen announced the engagement of their daughter, Rosalie to Annapolis' own, Emmett McCarthy. A late summer wedding was planned in the bride-to-be's hometown of Alexandria. Until then, she would stay in her brother's home on Charles Street with her fiancé dancing attendance upon her when he could—which was often, Bella found.

In fact, Emmett was so underfoot that Bella was growing ever more frustrated. Remembering the _tête-à-tête_ she witnessed between the two of them before, she didn't feel it was fitting for Rosalie to entertain Mr. McCarty alone even though he was her intended so when he was visiting Charles Street, it was incumbent upon Mrs. Cullen to chaperone the two. This interfered horribly in her housewifely duties and she absolutely didn't know how to deal with it. She didn't know how to approach her sister-in-law and she didn't want to burden Edward, feeling it was a matter she should know how to handle.

She found she was arising earlier and staying awake later than she normally would to get her work done. Of course, Edward noticed her long hours and would keep the same as she, using the time to read and study as directed by Mr. Chase. But one night, he simply wanted some time alone with his wife. Rosalie was spending the evening at the McCarty's, so they were really quite by themselves in the house.

"Bella, come to bed." He was anything if not direct.

Pushing a stray curl off of her forehead, she looked up from the shopping list she was making for the next day. "I shall in a bit. I must finish this list, first."

"And then what shall you need to do before joining me upstairs?"

"I must check on Angela's work to make sure all is in order for tomorrow's tasks."

"And then what shall you do?"

She smiled at him and tilted her head coyly. "I have an assignation with a very fine and handsome man."

"Oh, you do, do you? And does your husband know of this rendezvous?"

"I believe he is quite contented with the arrangement."

Edward bit his lip and sighed. "In fact, madam, he isn't quite as contented as he might be."

All sense of teasing left Bella. "Edward, I would have you contented as _can_ be."

"I am, dear wife. I just wish your days weren't so busy that we couldn't spend more time together in the evening."

She put a tired hand to her brow. Suddenly, she was feeling weepy and overwhelmed. How on earth would she be able to squeeze more time out of her day to fulfill the responsibilities she had as mistress of this household, chaperone of her sister-in-law, _and _devoted and loving wife of her husband?

She blinked back tears and quickly turned away from Edward lest he see her distress.

"Isabella," Edward said as he realized she was distraught, "my love, what troubles thee?"

He stood and went to her as she stared into the empty hearth, trying her best to calm herself.

"Bella," he said again as he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her temple and tightened his embrace. "Tell me. I would fix it for you."

She couldn't speak past the knot in her throat. She just shook her head and burrowed her face into his shoulder. Despite her best attempts to hold back her tears, she started to sob.

Edward was stunned. He racked his brain to think of what he could have said to upset her so but he could fathom nothing. He continued to hold her, completely at a loss as she cried.

He made calming noises and patted her back with one hand, simultaneously fishing in his pocket for his handkerchief with the other.

Holding the linen square out to her he said, "There, there, my Bella. Tell me the problem and I shall correct it. Did I say something hurtful? I would never wish to cause you grief."

These words had the effect of causing her to cry harder which made Edward even more flummoxed. She grabbed his handkerchief and hid her face in it and wailed.

"Bella!" Edward's voice was agonized.

He suddenly swept her up in his arms and carried her over to his chair to sit down with her on his lap. He said not another word, just held her close to his heart and let her cry. He prayed to the Almighty that when she stopped, he'd have the proper words to say that would ease her turmoil—and his own.

But it was as if the floodgates had opened and Bella was venting months of pent up worries. There was no holding them back. Edward's kind attentions just made her that much more unable to rein in her emotions. She realized that she was upsetting him with her outburst and she struggled to grasp whatever strength she had to cease her caterwauling.

She found a spark of anger and was grateful for it. To think that she, the intrepid girl who crossed an ocean on her own, who took on a household without a wink, who fell into wifehood so precipitously and who bore it all with equanimity was bawling over the fact she didn't have the time to do her work as well as spend time with her husband as she would have liked? It was absurd.

Why, she even cut her hair without a tear to show for it. She drank scummy water for six weeks without blinking, she scoured a filthy house from top to bottom without batting an eye and here she was dissolved in pieces over what? Absolutely nothing.

Heaving a great sigh, she sat up in Edward's arms and blotted her eyes and blew her nose. "I am sorry, Edward. I am being foolish." She saw the worry still on his face and smiled weakly at him.

"Foolish? I've never known you to be foolish, my Bella. What has saddened you? Was it a fault of mine?"

She shook her head and traced the line across his furrowed brow. "No my dear, you have no faults except for perhaps hogging the covers of a night." Her impish smile was back.

"But why were you weeping?" Edward could not be distracted and gazed intently into her eyes.

Bella sighed again and looked down at her hands as they twisted the handkerchief she held. "I felt that I was failing you and I didn't know how to make amends."

He pulled her tightly to him and shook his head. "You are as far from failing me as the moon is from the sun. I never dreamed such happiness existed for me. If I said something that led you to believe otherwise, it wasn't my intention."

She smoothed the handkerchief in her lap and folded it over as the color bloomed on her cheeks and said, "You said you wished that I would retire with you earlier and it seems I have never ending chores that interfere."

He chuckled. "As you well know, my Bella, I could spend the whole day long abed with you. I am impatient for you but not unreasonable. But what keeps you from bed so late at night? Besides your wifely duties, has there been that much more for you to deal with since our marriage?"

"I don't consider my wifely duties anything but a lovely pleasure. There have been other tasks I've been set to as your wife, though, that have filled more of my time that I expected."

"What sort of duties?" Edward put his hand over hers. He couldn't imagine what more tasks could be her lot.

"I've had to return and receive visits from new acquaintances and that seems to take up most of the afternoon. Angela has done very well seeing to the housework and kitchen but she can't do it all and I must help and direct her, of course. That fills my morning. What I don't finish then, I must attend to after supper."

"Surely, Rosalie assists you."

"Oh, she helps most times with the cooking. She's a rare treat as a cook and baker."

"Most times?"

"Rosalie…" Bella didn't know how to broach this subject without shedding an unbecoming light upon her sister-in-law, so she didn't finish her sentence and just looked anxiously at her husband.

"Rosalie…?" Edward cocked his head.

In a rush Bella said, "Since Rosalie and Emmett have announced their engagement, he visits quite often and I must chaperone them. It does cut into the time I can work in the house."

"Well my dear, send him off, or send them both out for a walk. And give Rosalie more to do. You are no servant to her."

"Oh Edward, she treats me with respect and doesn't expect me to wait upon her. She's just giddy in love and may not realize she and her husband-to-be are importuning. In fact, I think she would be sad to know she had been."

"Put yourself in her shoes, madam. If she were the housewife and we were the ones affianced, would you wish us to be a burthen to her?"

"Never!"

"I do assure you, my sister would feel the same. Now, talk to her in the morning and explain what you have told me. I will not have you fretting o'er this." He placed his hands on both sides of her face and pulled her closer to kiss her sweetly upon her lips. "Now, finish your list and then we both will go below and check on Angela's work. That will hurry the time so we may retire the sooner."

Smiling, she was glad she spoke to him about her worry but still it troubled her that she had been so tearful. 'Twas most unlike her. She hoped she wasn't sickening for something.

Taking Edward's advice, she had a heart to heart talk with Rosalie and was relieved when the young woman immediately offered to take over all of the meal planning, shopping and preparation. That would free Bella to focus on the housework with Angela in the morning and leave her afternoons free to make calls and receive visitors.

One afternoon in fact, she was surprised to find Mr. Banner awaiting her in her sitting room. The old man rarely socialized.

"Mrs. Cullen, 'tis a pleasure to see you again. I have most interesting news for you!" the gentleman exclaimed.

Smiling, Bella extended her hand and said, "Please do sit down and make yourself at ease, Mr. Banner. May I pour you some tea?"

"No thank you, madam. I find tea disagrees with me this time of day."

"Would you prefer porter or spirits, then?"

"Again, no thank you." He waved his hand as if he was shooing off a troublesome fly.

"I would speak to you of a discovery I made, Mrs. Cullen. 'Tis most astonishing!" The gentleman sat eagerly on the edge of his chair, his excitement evident.

"I am all ears, Mr. Banner." Smiling, Bella folded her hands in her lap and waited for the gentleman to tell her his news.

"I am sure you remember my interest in the necklace you were wearing at the Chase's soiree the other night?"

"I do sir."

"Well, it took some search but I found why it was familiar to me. Here, look at this etching." Bella noticed he had brought a book with him and he opened it at this moment to point out a picture to her. "What do you see about yon lady's neck?"

Bella peered at the picture and gasped. There was her necklace or one that looked exactly like it. The striking lady who was wearing it had a curious cap on her head and the bodice of her dress was square. She not only wore the 'B' pearl necklace but had other longer strands of pearls to accompany it and some sort of a gold chain.

"Why it looks very much like my necklace, sir."

"Aye, exactly like your necklace, I would say. Do ye know the name of that lady?"

"Indeed sir, I do not."

"She was a Queen of England, she was. Anne Boleyn, Henry Tudor's second wife, the one he started all that divorcing business over." Mr. Banner sniffed as if he didn't approve of the old King's tomfoolery.

"So you think my necklace could be hers?" Bella could not believe that would be the case.

"It could be, my dear, it could be. Do ye know the history of Anne Boleyn?"

"A little. King Henry had her head cut off, I believe."

"Aye, that he did, devil of a man. He grew tired of her, especially when she didn't produce a male heir, just a little puling girl—who happened to become the most notable monarch in England's history, but he wasn't to know that. So, he trumped up treasonable charges against her, had her executed and then went on to marry a Jane, then another Anne, and a couple more Catherines—his first wife had been a Catherine, as well." Mr. Banner shook his head at such foolishness.

He went on, "Well, my girl, I looked into the whereabouts of Anne Boleyn's jewelry, especially that pearl choker. I found that since it was a bauble she had from her father, it wasn't considered part of the crown jewels, so she was able to leave it to whomever she wished at her death. But here's the crux, no one knows what happened to it. She didn't give it to her daughter, Elizabeth, but whom else would she give it? Perhaps one of her ladies-in-waiting? A good friend? No one knows. It is all conjecture. Now, tell me what you know of your necklace. You said it was a family piece?"

Bella felt the blood drain from her face at Mr. Banner's discovery. Queen Anne Boleyn's necklace? It could never be.

"We said it was a family piece and it 'tis but a rather new to the family. I brought the necklace with me from England. It was given to me by my mistress before I left."

"Your mistress?"

"Aye, Mrs. Cope. She is my godmother and taught me the seamstress trade. One of her customers paid her bill by giving her that necklace and claimed it was valuable but when she brought it to the pawnsman, she was told it was worthless. Mr. Cullen discovered that wasn't quite the truth, though. He conjectured that the pawnsman was being duplicitous."

Mr. Banner put a hand to his chin. "Hmmmm. From whereabouts in England do you hail?"

"Portsmouth, as did my mistress."

"I'll have to do more research and see if I can discover if any who were near Anne Boleyn at the end of her life were from that area."

"It would be something if it is the old Queen's necklace, wouldn't it?"

"It would, my dear girl. Indeed it would be and probably worth a King's ransom as well."

"Oh, dear." Bella put her hand to her throat. What ever would she do if it were?

Suddenly, her eyes widened and she beamed, rather shocking the old man.

As soon as Mr. Banner left, she went to her desk and started writing a letter.

* * *

Early the next morning, Bella awoke and knew something wasn't right. Her stomach felt like a giant had reached within, grasped her entrails in a tight fist, and then twisted it. She tried to quietly arise from bed but the moment she sat up, the world spun and she felt as though she would faint dead away. She flopped back down against the bolster but couldn't stifle a pain-filled moan. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to regain her equilibrium but found it quite useless. The giant fisted again and she couldn't help but to cry out.

"Isabella, are you well?" Edward was instantly awake.

She just moaned and drew her knees up to her chest, trying to find a release from the pain.

"What's wrong?" Edward sat up and leaned over, trying to see in the dark.

"I hurt," she whimpered.

Edward reached out and stroked her arm. "What can I do?"

"Help me up. I need to use the thunder mug." This was new. Bella had always shied away from doing personal duties in front of her husband but at the moment she had no choice.

Edward quickly rose from bed, lit a candle and came around to Bella's side. He was shocked at how pale she was. "My love, here let me help you." He gently lifted her and carried her over to the screen where he set her gingerly on her feet.

She leaned against the wall and watched as Edward lifted the lid off the chamber pot. He turned to her and offered his arm about her shoulder so he could support her while she took care of her necessities.

Though in pain, she still shook her head in wonder. "You would do this for me?"

"I'd do anything for you, Isabella. 'Tis not only my duty, but my desire. Now, come. Let me support you."

He helped her get settled then turned away to offer her a semblance of privacy as she addressed her needs. He knew she was modest even though she was in pain and he had no wish to increase her discomfort.

"Oh." Bella seemed surprised.

He looked down and gasped, "Isabella! You're bleeding!"

The color suddenly came back in her face and in a choked voice she said, "Aye. I am. Could I ask you to fetch something out of my dresser?"

"I shall do better than that. I shall get a doctor!" Edward was beginning to panic. He well remembered when their old cook died; she had a bloody effusion of the bowels and she was in much pain. It was a sad ending to such a vibrant person and he was shaken to think his Bella was afflicted with the same illness.

"No, no Edward, I don't need a doctor but go into my top dresser drawer and towards the back there is a linen sack. Please bring it to me." Bella could hardly move. Her monthly had finally come with a vengeance.

But oh, to have this happen in front of Edward? She was mortified.

She heard him scrambling around in her dresser and a few moments later he returned and handed her the linen packet. He stood there uncertainly, watching her as she held the packet and looked back at him. "Edward, could I have some time to myself a bit."

"Oh yes. Of course," he said as he ducked from behind the screen. This gave Bella the opportunity to adjust her undergarments and the absorbent rags she used during these times. She stood shakily, her hand on the wall. The fist that had a strangle hold on her innards had loosened somewhat and she was able to walk a few steps from around the screen.

"You must lie down, my darling. You are very ill." Edward wrapped an arm around her and wondered if he should get the doctor just the same.

"Edward, I am not ill, just in pain." She didn't have the strength to go into detail at the moment.

Making a non-committal grunt, he carefully led her across the floor to their bed.

Bella was gratefully happy for Edward's assistance as he helped her lie down. She'd never had stomach pains as bad as these. She moaned a little and curled up in a ball.

It was a few minutes before she noticed that Edward was getting dressed.

"What are you about, Edward?"

"I am going to fetch the doctor." Edward's voice was tight and worried.

"Oh my dear, a doctor's not needed here, I do assure you."

"I am fetching the doctor." Edward frowned at Bella as he pulled on his waistcoat, noting her pinched face and ashen complexion. Her stubbornness was exasperating him.

She painfully pulled herself up into a sitting position and said, "Edward, bleeding is a normal matter. The doctor won't thank you for rousting him out of his bed on this occasion."

"I have no care about that. You need his attention. Look at you; you're pale and in pain and have the bloody flux."

"I don't have the bloody flux." Bella looked at Edward as though he was daft.

"I saw it, Isabella." His voice was agonized.

"You saw what happens to a woman every month, unless she's breeding. What you saw wasn't from my bowels!" For sure he knew about this!

"Then where was it from?" Edward stopped buttoning his coat and looked at Bella skeptically.

A wave of pain clutched at Bella's belly again. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed shallowly. She honestly didn't have the patience or the fortitude to explain such a private issue with a man—her man though he was.

"Edward, please…no doctor. Just you and your trust."

"Trust?" he asked as he settled on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Aye. Trust that I know what is wrong with me. If I needed a doctor, I would send for him.  
Believe me, please." Her eyes were still shut and her arms were wrapped around her abdomen. She tried willing the pain away but to no avail.

Edward studied her, then brushed a curl from her cheek and sighed. "You do promise me, though, that you shall have the doctor call if you are not better tomorrow?"

"I promise, husband. Now, just let me rest. I can't speak for hurting right now."

Edward reluctantly did as she bid him but he didn't go back to bed. He pulled the armchair away from the fireside next to the bed so he could sit near her in case she needed him. He dozed fitfully during the next hours and helped Bella twice again to go behind the screen. He was still worried, but this time was silent about it.

In the morning, he went down to the kitchen intending to poke around in the larder to find something that would help his wife. He was surprised to find Rosalie down before him helping Angela get the day's baking started. He was unexpectedly relieved to see his sister.

"Rosalie, Isabella is ailing terribly. She won't let me fetch the doctor and yet was up for long hours last night in pain."

"Oh, dear brother, is she feverish?" Rosalie stopped kneading the dough she was preparing and looked at Edward with concern.

Darting a glance at the servant girl, Edward pulled Rose aside and said in a low voice, "No. It's worse than that. She's bleeding and has a terrible pain in her belly."

Edward put an unsteady hand to his head. Thus far, he'd been able to stem his panic by repeating to himself that Bella had promised to call the doctor this morning if she'd not improved but saying it aloud brought his panic very near the surface again.

"Shall I go up to see her?"

"She was sleeping when I came down."

"If she still sleeps, I shall let her be."

Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "Truly, there may be nothing much the matter."

"But the pain? The blood?" Edward fisted his hands in his hair. He hadn't bothered to tie it back that morning.

"'Tis the way the good Lord intended for us poor women, brother. Sit you down at table. There's a pot of coffee on the hob and I shall see to your bride."

Rosalie set the dough she had been working aside and wiped her hands on a damp towel. As she passed Edward on her way to the stairs, she patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry o'er much. It will be well, you shall see."

Edward watched her ascend the stairs feeling a little more hopeful. Rosalie didn't appear to be too worried and for certain she would have reacted differently had there been reason. Too nervous to help himself to the coffee and wanting to be away from Angela's innocent scrutiny, he went up to his study and waited there for his sister's return.

It wasn't too long that the young woman came back down the stairs. Edward rushed to meet her in the foyer.

"Is Isabella well?"

"She's well as can be expected." Rosalie was smirking.

Astonished at her nonchalant expression, Edward asked, "How can that be?"

Rosalie snorted and brushed past him to enter the study saying, "Come brother, we must have a talk."

A very confused Edward followed behind her.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Lavender's Blue**

* * *

A chastened Edward quietly entered the bed chamber, holding a cup of steaming herbal tea. His ailing wife was propped up in bed by the bolster and several cushions. She was as pale as the pillow case she rested against and her hands were still clutching her abdomen in evident pain.

"I've brought you some tea. Rosalie said 'tis just the thing for what troubles you." He leaned over and gently brushed the curls off her forehead.

She squinted at the cup he held. "What is it?"

"_Black haw bark, dried and ground fine, then steeped in freshly boil't water." _He recited the receipt as a schoolboy would. Evidently, he had been recently schooled. Bella reached for the cup.

"Rosalie tells me it is what she and mother take when they…uh…" He didn't quite know how to complete the sentence. His sister had revealed a side of life of which he had been completely unaware. He felt like he should be sitting in the corner wearing a dunce cap. He hoped his wife would forgive his ignorance.

Bella took a tenuous sip, immediately making a face. "'Tis bitter."

"I'm not surprised. It is a truth universally acknowledged that all medicines must taste revolting. Truly, I think the more repugnant the better the efficacy."

"Hmmm." She took another sip. The tea tasted vile but she'd do anything to lessen her horrendous pain.

He sat by as she drank the draught and when she was done, took away the empty cup and set it on the nearby table.

"Do you wish my company, or would you have me leave you in peace?" He was hoping she would keep him by her side. Perhaps she wished to curl up with him as he wrapped her in his arms. He was hoping that would comfort her somewhat. But Rosalie warned that she mightn't want him about and to expect overwrought outbursts at times.

But his sweet Bella did not disappoint him. "Please stay with me, Edward. I must go behind the screen for a bit but perhaps we could bundle in bed when I am finished? That would comfort me."

"Of course, Bella. It will be my pleasure." His smile lit the room.

A few minutes later, she was tucked back into bed, resting her head on her husband's shoulder with his arms protectively around her. Edward kissed her forehead.

"Are you in less pain?"

"It has eased a bit."

"Where does it hurt?"

"Here." She took his hand and laid it over her lower abdomen. His hand almost covered the area completely.

"It is your womb that pains you?"

She nodded but then she sighed. "Your hand is so warm. It comforts me."

"Does it?"

"Aye. When I was in England, my mistress had a pig's bladder that she would fill with hot water, tie closed, and wrap with a felt cloth. I'd hold that to my belly at times like these."

"You are claiming my hand will do for a pig's bladder?" He couldn't help but to tease.

"Well, sir, it will _do_ but only just." She smiled and cuddled his hand with hers as it soothed her.

"Then, we shall have to procure a bladder for you. Until then, feel free to make any part of me useful to you." He kept his hand on her stomach and tried to ignore the tendrils of desire he was beginning to feel. Even touching her through her night gown was enough to awaken parts of him that would do better now to sleep.

_Sir Edward, behave yourself, you great horned devil_. He scolded his rousing rascal.

Thankfully, Bella unknowingly distracted him when she asked, "Did Rosalie explain why a physician isn't needed?"

"She did." His sister had been to the point about the matter, to say the least. "I am sorry I was so ignorant in the ways of womankind, my love."

"It isn't something that is discussed between the sexes, I suppose, so how would you know?"

"You would think with a mother and sister in the house I'd be aware of the workings of a woman's body to some degree."

"It's not so surprising to me. 'Tis a private thing, after all. I'm just that sorry you had to witness what you did earlier. I'm sure it was worrying."

"I won't say otherwise but I'm relieved to find you aren't in mortal danger."

She patted his chest and snuggled closer to him. "'Tis usually not so severe for me, though. I have never had pains this strong before and with such heaviness to it."

Edward pondered that a bit. "Do you think 'tis worse this time because of the change in your life?"

"Change in my life?" She lifted her head and looked at him, seeing the worry in his face. "You mean our marriage?"

"I was imagining that perhaps my attentions towards you have caused your trouble?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, Edward, nothing we have done together would have caused this."

She put her head back down on his chest and sighed. "I know the source of my problem. Do you remember my friend in Portsmouth, Mrs. Cheney?"

"The captain's wife who advised you for your voyage?"

"Aye, the very one. She also gave me advice on my monthly course during the trip as well. There's a potion shipwives take when they are a sea that fends off their menses. You can imagine how difficult it would be to cope with that under shipboard privations with its inherent lack of privacy, water to wash, and not to mention the discomfort.

"But there was a consequence of taking the draught of which I was unaware at the time. It stopped my monthly course going on half a year. Today, it returned with a vengeance but I am glad that it has finally come."

"Why so?"

"I was beginning to be afraid that the potion had ruined me for childbearing. Monthlies and getting with child go hand in hand. I wasn't having my normal monthly so I started to worry I'd be barren for you. And I do so much wish to give you a child." She blushed as she admitted that.

He squeezed her tightly, "Oh Bella, just giving me yourself is enough. If a child comes, I'd be happy but I am more than content just to be with you."

"You are truly a good, sweet man. I don't deserve you."

He only held her tighter and shook his head.

She snuggled into his side but guilt started to niggle. "I suppose I should've shared this fear with you before we married, though."

"Why?"

"Some men think barrenness is a good reason not to marry a woman."

"I would have married you regardless for I wed you for love, not for your procreative ability. Besides, how can anyone be sure of their progenerative qualities before they actually test them? I could be sterile as easily as you could be barren."

"Most men feel differently, from what I understand." She was reminded of all the wives of Old King Henry who died because of his quest for a male heir, Anne Boleyn of the necklace being one of them.

That spurred her mind to another topic. "I sent another letter to England the other day. I wrote to Mrs. Cope, my godmother, via Mrs. Cheney. I was hoping to learn more of that old necklace and to see if we could succor her in her distress—with your permission, of course. I have written her a few times since arriving in Maryland but haven't yet heard a word back. I hope that means good tidings rather than bad."

"Sometimes letters go awry. A friend of mine wrote relatives in Somersetshire of a visit he was planning to make with them when his voyage was a year away. Still, he appeared at their doorstep before his letter did. They were quite surprised."

"I am hoping I won't have to wait that long to hear news of Mrs. Cope."

"It is unlikely you would. My friend's mishap was an extreme example."

Edward rested a hand on top of hers as it lay upon his chest and entwined his fingers with hers. "Think you I should sell that old necklace?"

"It would be the answer to so many difficulties, my love."

"Our own finances are now well in hand but I do understand your concern for your friend. I promise you, I shall see to her rescue. However, as of yet we have no proof that necklace is what Mr. Banner suspects. Until we do, I propose we do naught with it."

Just then, a pain lanced through Bella's gut and she moaned and pressed her head against his chest.

"Every month you have to deal with this agony?" he asked as he tenderly stroked her back.

"It has never been so hard, Edward. In fact, I've never had to take to my bed before. I do feel slothful lying about today but my belly aches so badly I can barely move."

Edward continued to gently caress her. "You shall lie abed as long as you have need. Rosalie can mind the house today."

Bella sighed as the pain ebbed somewhat and she relaxed against Edward's shoulder. They were quiet for a moment when Bella asked, "Edward, don't you have to go to Mr. Chase's this morning?"

"I sent Angela to inform him I would arrive after dinner today."

"You didn't tell him I was poorly, did you?" Bella didn't wish her ailment to be known about town.

"I simply wrote that I was needed at home this morning."

"Then let us enjoy our time together." Bella smiled and held Edward close. "Could I ask a boon?"

"Of course."

"Would you sing to me?"

"What would you like to hear?" He smiled at her simple request so easily met.

"Something soft and sweet?"

"I know just the one." And he started humming an old nursery tune his mother used to sing to him when he was a small boy called '_Lavender's Blue'._

Bella lay in his arms, cossetted by his soft, deep voice and gentle, carressing hands. Soon she drifted off to sleep. The muted bustle of the town drifted through the open windows but here in their chamber was peaceful bliss. Edward nuzzled his nose into her hair as he softly began to sing the old lines of the song and realized that they brought new meaning to him this morning.

"_Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green; when I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen. Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so? 'Twas my own heart, dilly, dilly that told me so._"

It was as certain as the sunrise, Bella would forever be the queen of his heart.

* * *

Over the next few days, Bella was able to arise from her bed as the cramping had eased but her flow continued on. It was beginning to worry her, especially as she also was getting dizzy at odd times. She was careful to have a chair nearby when those spells came upon her but was glad it hadn't hindered her duties too much.

The door knocker sounded one morning and as Angela and Rosalie were at the market, Bella answered it. There on the porch was a courier holding a letter addressed to both herself and Edward. Giving the man a penny, she shut the door and took the letter into her sitting room.

The handwriting looked familiar and she grinned when she slid her finger under the wax seal to see that it was from her merry friend, Jasper Whitlock. How anxious she had been to have news of him and Miss Brandon.

_My dear friends, _

_I hope this missive finds all well on Charles Street and the worst of the town's amazement over my circumstances has abated. Now that we know Alice's kin have finally left these shores, I can be more specific upon how life now finds us._

_Our elopement was not simply a whim of the moment. The evening of the Chase's soiree was the culmination of a long strategy. Miss Brandon's maid, Jessica, stealthily packed whilst we were attending the fête and had all at the ready when my dear girl returned to her home in the evening. I had booked passage on a ship to Williamsburg that was leaving during the wee hours that morning. _

_After Mr. and Mrs. Brandon retired to their bed, Alice and her maid quietly left her family home, bag and baggage, and met me as I awaited them in the street. We boarded the ship and left Annapolis with none the wiser until much later the next day._

_The following evening found us in Williamsburg where I had arranged for Miss Brandon and her maid to stay with a family friend that had been sworn to secrecy. Mrs. Higginbotham is my godmother and she is the most respectable being the Lord ever created. Fortunately, she is a romantic at heart and was willing, without many blandishments, to aid us in accomplishing our marriage. _

_Unfortunately, she is also a dragon concerning propriety, so after she welcomed my angel into her home, she unwelcomed me, so I had nothing to do but to hole up in Raleigh Tavern and wait out the time it took to post the banns in Bruton Parish Church._

_It was the longest three weeks of my life._

_I know my letter implied that we had already married but I wanted whoever might have been interested to think the deed was done, the wine was spilt, the field was tilled and therefore there would be no going back. _

_We married the soonest we could and spent a wedding trip making our way to Father Whitlock's home in Alexandria. I was a tad worried about our reception there but I shouldn't have been. My dearest wife charmed them all at my father's house, as indeed she charmed the whole of Williamsburg previously—I think even old man Wythe cracked a smile or two in her direction, Edward, and you know how puss mouthed he was concerning frivolity—and I believe I am currently in danger of losing my place as most spoilt in my mother's kitchen in Alexandria._

_This brings us to the present, my dear friends. My father is in correspondence with a friend of his in Annapolis who is willing to pick up the reins of my legal preparation that Mr. Brandon so callously-but fortuitously, as it turns out-abandoned. Would we be imposing upon your good graces to ask if we could make our home with you on Charles Street? Of course we would recompense you fairly for the trouble and the maid, Jessica, could assist in the housework. _

_Incidentally, Mr. Brandon is not the one to own Miss Stanley's indenture but my dearest wife does, so you need have no fear that the constable would come knocking upon your door to clap us in irons for thieving a valuable chattel._

_In any case, my friends, it would be a pleasure to see you again. I thank you for your kindness and I apologize for any inconvenience our impetuosity may have caused you._

_Yrs. Truly,_

_Jasper Whitlock_

Bella laughed in delight. Jasper was still the famous scamp he always had been. His happiness shone throughout his letter and she was so glad for him. It would be wonderful to have Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock here and she was sure Edward would agree. She couldn't wait until her husband got home for dinner that day.

It was all arranged. Jasper and Alice were returning to Annapolis in the next week to join them on Charles Street bringing Bella's old friend and Alice's servant, Jessica, with them. While Edward shared his wife's delight in their friends' arrival, he did sardonically remark, "Do we know any other young couples needing lodging, wife? I believe we have another bedchamber available."

Jasper and Alice would share Jasper's old room and Bella prepared the garret room for Jessica's use. It would be good to have another maid in the house, especially with their bourgeoning population.

Bella decided to move the large bed that Old Peter and Charlotte had shared from the attic into Rosalie's chamber. It was a very fine piece of furniture and Bella discovered it actually matched the furniture already in that room. Evidently, the two girls who shared the room previously had no use for such a large bed and it was passed on to the servants. Rose certainly would have need of it when her husband came to live with them. The single beds that had been in Rosalie's room would be carried up into the garret, one for Jess to use, the other to put into storage.

After, they had set all to rights in her room, Rosalie flopped upon the feather mattress of her new bed and laughed with such a gleam in her eye it led Bella to realize her sister-in-law would have no surprises on the eve of her nuptials. She was beginning to think the quicker her sister-in-law was married, the better.

* * *

Much to everyone's surprise, Bella fainted in the middle of her sitting room one afternoon. She and Angela had been pulling basting threads out of a new dress and when Bella arose to get some scissors, she blacked out.

"Madam! Madam!" Angela cried as she knelt over Bella's crumpled figure. Angela grabbed Bella's hands and patted them.

"Madam, awaken! Awaken! Oh, dear." She cast about, trying to think what she should do. She dare not leave to get her mother's smelling salts and there were no feathers nearby that she could burn and wave under her mistress' nose. Fortunately, before she could think further, Bella roused.

"What happened?" Her voice shook.

"You fainted, ma'am. Do you hurt anywhere? Do you wish to sit?" Angela supported Bella as she got unsteadily to her feet.

"Aye, let me sit in the chair for a moment."

Angela hovered as Bella leaned her head back and shut her eyes once she sat down. Rosalie found the two of them like that a few minutes later and immediately took charge.

"I will call the doctor, sister. Surely, your blood is too thin." Bella's course had finally stopped but she believed she was still weakened from the excesses of it.

"Send for him but make sure he comes before Edward gets home from Mr. Chase's this evening. I would not have my husband worry."

Rosalie grumbled a bit and helped Bella up to her bedroom where she refused to lie down. She didn't wish to see the doctor while she was abed. It felt unseemly to her.

When the gentleman arrived and listened to Bella's complaints he nodded sagely and said, "Mrs. Cullen, I prescribe fresh air, rest, and the consumption of good, red meat. You need to rebalance your humours for that potion you took aboard ship threw them out of alignment, hence your troubles."

"But will I be back to my old self soon?"

"Sooner or later. I've known other women who have suffered as you have and for the same reason. If you still feel poorly in a week's time, have me call again."

She thanked him and followed him down stairs grateful for his knowledge and his prognosis. She felt better to know that soon she would be back to rights. After she saw him off, she turned to head down to the kitchen to help with preparing the evening meal only to be met by Rosalie standing in her way with her arms folded.

"I do believe the doctor ordered you to rest, sister."

"Oh, I can rest downstairs in the kitchen as well as anywhere else."

"I can imagine your definition of 'rest' and mine are much different, then. And I'd be happy to wager that the physician's definition agrees more with mine than yours, Isabella Cullen." Rosalie's determined stare was enough to let Bella know that she wasn't going to have her way in this.

Sighing, she turned and trod back up the stairs to her bedroom. Maybe she could do some mending…

* * *

"Miss Cullen, 'tis a pleasure to see you again." Mrs. Volturi, who along with Jane, was making her daily visit to the Cullen household. She settled upon the slipper chair in the sitting room and spent a good two minutes arranging her voluminous skirts about her.

"Thank you, madam. 'Tis kind of you to say so every day." Rosalie tried to sound genuine but, truly, she had never met such a tedious family. She hoped Mrs. Volturi did not detect the smidgen of disdain in her voice and Rose certainly wasn't concerned that Jane Volturi would either. That young miss' expressions changed no more than a cow's.

"Where is Mrs. Cullen this afternoon?" Mrs. Volturi wondered as she looked about the tidy room.

"Alas, Mrs. Volturi, she has been ordered to rest by her physician."

"And she cannot take a moment to visit with us? How disappointing. What is her ailment?" Every angle of Mrs. Volturi's body seemed to end in a point and she was quivering with eagerness to be the first in the community to hear of Bella's illness.

"The doctor says there is nothing serious but what rest and good red beef won't cure."

Mrs. Volturi fairly vibrated with excitement. "Why we would help her! We have just the tonic, don't we Jane?"

Jane blinked but said nothing and after a moment, her mother went on explaining to Rosalie, "We have a treasured family recipe—handed down from the _Mayflower,_ you know—that insures strengthening of the blood within moments of eating doesn't it, Jane?"

Both Rosalie and Mrs. Volturi turned once again to await some response from Jane but no; the girl continued to sit and blink.

Not being able to contain her excitement over the proposed delicacy, Mrs. Volturi exclaimed, "'Tis _Liver Pie_. It is quite delicious and certainly just the thing the doctor called for in Mrs. Cullen's diet. There's nothing redder than fresh beeves liver, as everyone knows. And Jane is the best at preparing it. She is a gifted cook, she is."

Jane looked from her mother to Rosalie and still said not a word. She stopped blinking at least.

_Liver pie? Oh, how revolting._ Rosalie thought, but she was courteous enough to only make grateful but noncommittal comments. "Thank you for thinking of my sister, Mrs. Volturi, but I am sure she would not wish to give you so much trouble."

"Of course 'twill be no trouble, Miss Cullen. Jane and I will be delighted and honored to share our little treat. It is all for the benefit of little Mrs. Cullen. Now, we've made our visit today, we shall depart."

The ladies rose and filed out to the front door where Rosalie curtsied and saw them off. Leaning her back against door afterwards, she grimaced and muttered, "Liver pie? I shall definitely be not at home when they deliver that!"

**AN:**

**Black Haw bark is a Native American Indian herbal remedy for women's troubles. For Real.**

**Bundle in bed. Cuddling with the clothes on in bed. **

_**Lavender Blue, Dilly dilly**_**. Forget about the dilly dilly part because that's sort of silly silly but the rest of the song is lovely. There are even some recordings on youtube of various people singing it. I couldn't find one that I thought I could imagine Edward sounding like (I mean, Burl Ives just doesn't do it for me. Everytime I hear his voice I think **_**Frosty the Snowman**_**) so just pick one if you'd like to hear the song. **

**There is a Bruton Parish Church and a Raleigh Tavern in Colonial Williamsburg. They've been tenderly restored to their colonial conditions and are wonderful places to visit. If you go to www dot colonialwilliamsburg dot com, you'll find a wealth of information on that vibrant colonial town. I highly recommend a visit, if possible.**

**_The Mayflower_**** was a ship that landed in the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1620 full of Puritans/Pilgrims. Mrs. Volturi was bragging that her family had American blue blood. I wonder if she realized that Jamestown in Virginia was settled in 1607.**

**I am sure there is some sort of liver pie out there in the culinary world but I believe those sort of meat products are called offal for a reason and I am not interested in trying it. I'm with Rose.**

* * *

**Chapter 25: Pie Making & Chris Marlowe**

* * *

"Mother, I cannot make that pie for Mistress Cullen. I am promised at Lucy Steele's tomorrow and will not have the time." Jane unapologetically gazed at her mother as they arrived back at their house after their visit with Rosalie Cullen.

"Well, then you can make it the next day." Mrs. Volturi waved her hand as if it made no difference one way or the other.

"But you promised the pie and it would look badly if we did not follow through as soon as may be." Jane knew how to manipulate her mother quite easily. A slight against their social standing was the surest way to get the response she wanted.

"Well, as for that, I suppose you are correct. Chelsea can make it as easily as you. She knows the method right enough, except for the spices and herb mixture that goes into it." Chelsea was Demetri's wife and their cook.

Sulpicia thought for a minute then snapped her fan shut to exclaim, "I have it! Daughter, do you put together the herbs tonight and leave them out for cook to use tomorrow. I shall bring the pie to Mrs. Cullen myself later that afternoon in time for her supper."

"Very well, mother."

Jane paused as though in thought and then she said, "Make sure Mistress Cullen knows that in order to receive full benefit of the pie she must eat every morsel herself. Mrs. Cullen too easily shares all her goods with anyone who looks her way." Jane sniffed as to imply this was a bad characteristic indeed.

"But, my dear, why should I tell her that?"

"Grandmama explicitly told me that unless the entire pie is eaten in one setting, no good would come of it. If she doesn't and no improvement is shown in Mrs. Cullen's condition, all will place the blame at our door since you swore it would have her fit as a fiddle in no time."

"Your grandmama told _me_ no such thing." Sulpicia was fretful. Her mother had always left her out of most things.

"You know how grandmama was, mother. She always catered to me."

"Aye, but she was always right hard to me, the fulsome crone." And so, Sulpicia began to list the familiar litany of sins she believed her mother had committed against her over the years to her daughter, who had heard it all before. Jane tutted and shook her head as her mother went on but all the while thinking of what she would do to comfort poor Mr. Cullen in his coming distress.

Later that night, after all in the household had gone to bed, Jane stood at the kitchen table. A small candle cast weird shadows along the wall behind her. She could hear the not so gentle snores of Demetri and Chelsea as they slept in the small room at the back of the kitchen. She knew that her mother was dosed and her father was in a drunken stupor. She would be undisturbed in her labor.

Taking a packet out of her apron pocket, she set it carefully down on the table and unfolded it to reveal a handful of dried mushrooms. She chopped them fine and then mixed them with the spices the cook would use tomorrow when she prepared the liver pie.

When she was done, Jane carried the guttering candle up to her room, a satisfied smile on her face at what she had set into motion. Everyone thought she was as empty-headed as her mother with nothing more than an angelic face but they were wrong. Jane had an innate cunning that she used quite successfully to achieve whatever it was she desired. She had never in her life been thwarted for long.

Her grandmama was canny and had early on recognized Jane's native shrewdness. Sulpicia, her own daughter, had been a huge disappointment and was summarily married off to the first man who showed any sort of an interest in her. When the couple had unexpectedly produced this promising chick, grandmama was pleased. Thus, Jane was nurtured by the sour and cynical mind of a woman who felt anything was justified if it achieved a goal—and Jane was an excellent student. The old woman taught her about the uses of herbs both fair and foul and the girl was like an obliging sponge.

So, when Jane decided that Edward Cullen was hers, she was determined to let nothing stand in her way.

Nothing.

"Hello, little dog. You've had a hard life, haven't ye?"

Bella squatted down and held her hand out to the mutt who had been loitering in the alley the past few days. It seemed a gentle dog, just a little bedraggled. Its fur was matted in places and the white patches were discolored by dirt. The dog wagged its tail and submissively lowered its head allowing Bella to scratch behind its battle scarred-ears.

"You would be fine looking with a bath and a combing or two, I am thinking, but I bet you're more interested in a bone than a bath, aren't ye? Let me see if I can winkle one away from Miss Rosalie and get it for thee."

She arose and went into the kitchen only to be fondly scolded by her sister-in-law. "Isabella, you need to sit out under yon tree and enjoy the fresh air, not feed every mongrel that comes by."

"One dog doesn't make a pack, sister. You're finished with that soup bone, aren't you?"

"I must be, as I can tell you are determined to take it." Though her words were sharp, her smile was kind and her affection for her brother's wife was apparent.

Laughing, Bella soon returned to the yard and found the bedraggled dog waiting patiently for her. Half expecting him to grab the bone and run, she was surprised when the animal gently took it from her hand and then paused as if to thank her.

"Go on with you, you gentle brute, and eat your fill." With that, the dog loped down the alley towards a stand of trees in the distance. Bella smiled and wondered if perhaps they could provide for the animal. She always had liked dogs and fondly remembered a few that had lived on the farm during her childhood but when she had moved to Portsmouth she learned that Mrs. Cope had no use for a dog or cat in her shop. She said they drove off custom.

Bella decided to talk to Edward about the dog but now, according to the dictates of the tyrant currently ruling her kitchen, she sat out underneath the spreading oak tree near the flower garden. The tree's leafy canopy provided a private bower that shielded any who would sit under it from the view of any neighbors. Edward had placed a comfortable chair with a cushioned stool in its shade that morning before he had left for Mr. Chase's. He had selected a volume of poetry for his wife to read, and had bid her to think of him as she read it.

She smiled tenderly as she opened the book to find it was comprised of love poems.

"_Come live with me and be my love,_

_And we shall all the pleasures prove,_

_That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,_

_Woods, or steepy mountains yields."_

And soon, she was beguiled by the sweet words of Christopher Marlowe as well as the honeyed deeds of her husband. It seemed that every day she just loved him more.

As Bella was an active person, she was wont to fall asleep if she sat still too long, no matter how lovely the verses she was reading and that proved to be the case this day. One minute she was being wooed by the poetry Edward had selected for her, the next she was being awakened by his kiss when he came home for the mid-day meal.

Bella groggily sat up and exclaimed, "Oh, my dear, I didn't mean to doze. I should have been awaiting you at the door."

"No, as I remember, you were to rest. I was pleased to see you napping when I arrived. And look you here," he waved towards a basket that sat on the ground next to them, "Rosalie has fixed us an _al fresco_ dinner so that we may eat at our comfort right where we sit."

"Oh, you and Rosalie are much too good to me. I am a very spoiled woman."

Smiling, Edward searched through the basket and fetched out a bottle of stout ale, uncorked it and poured some out for Bella. "This is supposed to strengthen your blood."

"Ale at noon?" Bella's raised a skeptical brow.

"As well as morning and night, according to the physician."

"I shall turn into an inebriate." Bella was imagining being in her cups all the day long. She knew her work would suffer.

Edward laughed as handed her the tankard. "This is temporary—only until your strength returns to you. I doubt you'll have the time to become a bosom acquaintance of Bacchus."

Edward squatted on the footstool at her feet as he parceled out their dinner that consisted of sliced beef, ripe cheese and some raspberries freshly picked that morning. He insisted upon feeding her the best morsels, even above her protests.

"Have you gotten far in the book?" Edward was eyeing the volume as it sat upon the small table at Bella's side.

"To be honest I was reading Mr. Marlowe's _Passionate Shepherd_ and soon drifted off, much to my surprise. I must not have my strength back quite yet to fall asleep so easily in the prime of the day."

"With proper pampering, I am sure your vigor shall soon return. For the present, let me read to you."

He held his hand out for the book and soon was thumbing through as though looking for a verse in particular.

"Ah, here we are." And he began to read,

"_Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars_

_Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter_

_When he appear'd to hapless Semele;_

_More lovely than the monarch of the sky_

_In wanton Arethusa's azured arms:_

_Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air_

_And none but thou shalt be my paramour."_

He stopped and peered intently at her. "He writes of Helen but for me, he writes of thee."

Blushing, Bella said, "I am glad you still think well of me, sir."

"Pshaw Bella, need you ever doubt my esteem for you or my feelings about you?" He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on her forehead.

"Though I would prefer to dally with you here this afternoon, I must go back to Mr. Chase's now for I have much to do there." He stood reluctantly.

"Fare thee well, Edward. I shall look forward to your return." She reached to draw his hand to her lips and then cuddled it against her cheek.

"Goodbye, my love. I shall leave the sooner in order to return the quicker." With a hurried buss on the lips he was gone, leaving his wife sighing in love for him and hoping the afternoon would pass swiftly.

As she watched him walk across the lawn with his coat slung over his shoulder, she couldn't help but admire the turn of his hose-covered calf, and the bulge of muscle under the backside of his breeches. His hair was neatly tied in its queue but she remembered the feel of it when she would pull it free and would twine her fingers through it. She was startled to recognize that her yearnings for him were more than just desiring a sweet kiss or two, in fact they were quite _wanton_. Due to her infirmity, it had been almost two weeks since they'd last had marital relations. Perhaps tonight they could once again enjoy its delights. She certainly felt well enough and without a doubt he'd be pleased.

Before he passed out of the yard, Edward turned to bid her adieu once more to find he was ensnared by her hungry gaze. Moments passed as they exchanged desperate, needy, and ultimately adoring looks. Sighing, Edward lifted his hand and finally left the yard, knowing his duty even though his desire for his wife was almost overpowering.

A sparkle lit Bella's eye as she thought of how she could prepare for the evening. Certainly, a bath would be a good beginning. She could wash her hair using the lemon-scented rinse Rosalie had given her and just yesterday afternoon she had put the finishing touches on a new dress. It was cut in the English style that gave the fullness of a farthingale without the bother of wearing one. Tonight would be the perfect excuse to wear it.

Gathering her book and the basket their lunch had been in, she returned to the house to find only Angela working in the kitchen.

"Where is Miss Rosalie, my dear?" Bella asked.

"She's greeting Mrs. Volturi who has come to pay a visit."

"I shall go up to welcome her as well. Could you please put water on the boil? I wish to bathe this afternoon."

"Certainly, Madam."

Bella put away the remains of her lunch and then went upstairs to pay her respects to Mrs. Volturi. When she entered the sitting room, the first thing she noticed was a basket setting upon the table, the second was the horrible aroma that was emanating from it.

Sitting nearby was the simpering Mrs. Sulpicia Volturi. Rosalie looked perplexed as she said, "Sister, our dear neighbor has brought you some restorative victuals meant to have you in better spirits as soon as can be."

Earlier that morning…

"But madam, they only had beef's liver at market. There was no calf's liver to be had this day."

"Oh dear, the trouble we go through to be good Christian neighbors. This is entirely too much liver for our purposes." Sulcipia shook her head and sighed in vexation as she studied the pile of meat on the kitchen work table.

"I could double the size of the pie, madam. We have a large pie pan that could accommodate it quite readily." Chelsea knew she was in bad odor. The sole reason there was no calf's liver to be had was because she arrived later than she should have at market that day. Her lateness was a consequence of her drinking too much the night before and therefore having a reluctant start to her morning. By the time she got to the market, all the veal had already been sold.

"Very well, I shall add to the spices Miss Jane prepared and you shall double the recipe. We shall keep half the pie for our dinner and give the rest to Mrs. Cullen. Half of a large pie would be the same as one small one, don't you think?" Sulpicia was remembering the caution Jane had relayed to her the night before about the need to consume the whole pie. Why her mother never bothered to tell her that was hurtful but not surprising. Sulpicia didn't grieve much when the old lady died. Knowing her mother and her cruel disposition, she believed she went straight to hell although the old woman could probably out-devil the devil had she a mind. Her daughter was sure the devil wouldn't appreciate the competition.

"Aye, that would be a fair comparison, madam. I shall start this moment." Chelsea got out the utensils she would need. She was relieved to be let off the hook so easily and busied herself by peeling and deveining the large cow's liver that lay in front of her. Though she wasn't looking forward to eating the pie as this wasn't her favorite food, anything was worth not being berated by the harpy that employed her.

**AN:**

**Yes, you do have to peel liver before cooking it.**

**Christopher Marlowe's writing was said to have influenced Shakespeare. He was young when he died, only 29, but he had quite a life just the same. There's a mystery to his life and death and some speculate that he was a member of Her Majesty's Secret Service just like James Bond (sort of—think Blackadder.) Read up on this rascal and maybe you can see why his poetry was so dramatic. The two poems of his that I quoted were **_**The Passionate Shepherd, trying to sweet talk his way in to his love's pantaloons**_**. Actually, I made part of that title up but my title's more honest. And the other was an extract from his play, **_**Dr. Faustus**_**. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 26: Pie**

* * *

James James lay upon a thick layer of needles that littered the ground under the low hanging boughs of a secluded pine tree and watched the dog trot down the alley towards him. The man was as grimy as the bedraggled dog. He was weary, worn, and hungry but more than that, he was filled with a smoldering hate that kept him focused on his one obsession—_vengeance._

He wanted something back for all the times he'd been trodden upon, spat at, ignored, denied, disposed and reviled. He was convinced that the root of his every trouble was a woman, whether it was his bitch of a mother, his harridan grandmother, the various ship whores, but especially, the woman who lived in yon house, that Isabella Swan.

He hated her the most.

She thought she was so much better than he. She, who actually sold herself into servitude, who was from nothing and no one, thought she had been too fine for his attentions. She cost him his livelihood by tattling to the Captain's man about his _friendly overtures_. He learned since coming back to town that she'd wasted no time in making friendly overtures herself once she got to Maryland. So, now she'd wed her master? She was no better than a whore—a harlot and a drab.

But still it wasn't enough for her. No. She would take everything from him. It seemed the only friend he had in the world was that dammed dog. She, as had her predecessors, played the world against him and even today she was trying to woo the animal away with table scraps.

He had plans for the wench; he most certainly did.

"Give that to me," James said and grabbed the bone from the dog's mouth. "That will be _my_ dinner, dog. Thank your new mistress kindly for me, won't you?"

Turning his back on the whining animal, he found a likely rock and slammed it down upon the large bone until it cracked. Pulling it apart, he greedily scooped out the marrow with his fingers, and then sucked the bone clean.

He had been starving since coming back to Annapolis. Everywhere he turned there was a member of the constable's force. He couldn't wander the town, sneaking in and out of dark corners, filching a pie here, or a loaf of bread there. He had to keep to the woods out of the way of people and, therefore, out of reach of easy victuals. It had been hard days lately and he knew it portended that his own time was coming to an end. It seemed as though he could already feel the noose around his neck.

But he'd get even before it came, even if it was upon his dying breath. Throwing the remains of the bones to the dog, he settled back down under the tree to wait. When the night came, he'd be on the move. Then, she'd see.

* * *

"Mr. Cullen, I do believe you are well prepared to face the bar." Samuel Chase put down the brief that Edward had written and looked over his spectacles at the young man who stood in front of his desk.

"Do you think I would do well enough to satisfy them?" Edward asked, trying hard not to wring his hands in uncertainty.

"Aye, indeed I do. I recommend that you to apply to the bar here in Annapolis as soon as may be. You know many there. I think knowing them personally might put you at your ease."

"Is one ever at ease at such occassions?"

"An astute observation, my friend." Samuel leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands. "Perhaps you might not be precisely at your _ease_ but simply _easier_ than you if you should go to Philadelphia or New York for the examination."

"But if I wanted to practice in Maryland, I would have to be tested here just the same, would I not?"

"There is reciprocity between colonies, so if you pass the bar in one place, you pass it in the others. Be that as it may, I was wondering what you planned to do once you have received your credential?"

"I had thought to begin soliciting clientele in a small way here in Annapolis."

"Is that so? Then, sir, I have a proposition for you. I find my political duties take more and more of my time and I have less to spend on my actual lawyering. Would you consider working with me as a partner? There's none I'd trust more than you."

Edward could hardly believe what he was hearing. Samuel Chase was asking him to work in his very successful practice? It was more than he ever dared hope.

"I would be honored to work with you, sir. Thank you very much indeed."

"Then good; it's settled. Make the appointment for your examination as soon as may be, then we can begin our business together."

As Edward returned to his books, he realized the elation he felt centered on the fact that he couldn't wait to tell Bella what had transpired that day. Grinning, he picked up his quill. He remembered the look he had shared with her when they parted that afternoon, and felt _Sir_ Edward stir. It seemed that this evening was bound to be memorable for many reasons.

* * *

In the mid-afternoon, a carriage stopped in front of the Charles Street house and a handsome swain popped out of the door and turned to hand a vibrant young woman out behind him. Taking her arm, they walked up the steps to the door leaving her maid to follow. Before they could knock, however, the door opened to the beaming smile of Rosalie Cullen.

"Why Mister and Mistress Jasper Whitlock, welcome!" Rosalie stepped aside to let them pass.

"And the best of days to you, Miss Cullen. Please allow me the honor of introducing my glorious bride." Jasper swept into a grand bow as he elegantly waved his arm in the direction of Alice, who then curtsied.

" 'Tis so very nice to see you again, Miss Cullen," Alice said as she arose from her curtsy.

"Oh please, call me Rosalie. As we shall be housemates, there should be no need to stand upon formalities. I shall have Angela prepare tea for you as soon as may be but I am sure you must wish to freshen up beforehand. Your room is ready. My sister was sure you'd prefer to have your old room, Jasper." She led the couple up stairs and Jessica followed carrying a small portmanteau.

"My old quarters will be more than sufficient, Rosalie. But where is Mrs. Cullen? I should have thought she'd be home," Jasper said.

"She is at home Jasper, but she's been feeling poorly of late and is resting in her room."

"I hope 'tis nothing too serious?"

"Nothing that time won't serve as the cure. It was my decision not to call her when I heard you arrive and I am sure she will be right put out that I didn't rouse her, but she does need her rest as the doctor ordered."

Quietly opening the Whitlock's bedroom door, she added, "Now, here is your room. There is hot water and some fresh linens on the wash stand. Tea will be awaiting you in the sitting room when you come down."

The carters were bringing up several trunks and between the ladies all was put as it should be. Jessica was shown the room she'd be using and she was quite pleased to have such comparatively roomy surroundings in the attic of the townhouse.

Finding that he was just in the way, Jasper decided to go down to the kitchen to tease Angela and to see if he couldn't cadge a treat or two while he waited for the ladies.

"Greetings, fair maid. How goes it with you?" Jasper called as he descended the last few steps into the kitchen.

Angela was startled as she poured hot water into the teapot to warm it. The tray had already been set with various tidbits and delicacies to be ready for when the bell rang. "Mr. Jasper! You startled me and here I almost poured hot water on your cakes from the fright."

"Have a care my dear, it wouldn't do to make a soggy cake; although I am sure I read that is the only way it is taken in England."

"Never do they, sir! There's nothing worse than a wet sponge and I am sure the English know it."

"They know of little but plaguing honest colonists of late. Be that as it may, I am sure they don't know the difference between a wet cake and a dry one, although I must say a mouthful of too dry a cake must be ghastly as well; as like a mouthful of sand, I am sure."

"I wouldn't know as I've tried neither."

Jasper wandered over to the table under the window and spied Mrs. Volturi's liver pie. "What have we here? It looks delectable indeed."

"Hands away from that, sir. 'Twas made especially for my mistress. 'Tis liver pie."

"Truly! I so enjoy a liver pie. I haven't had any in months. It seems the cooks I've been victimized by won't make it for some reason."

Angela sniffed, for she could imagine many a reason to avoid making the concoction, indeed. "You are japing me, sir. Besides, you seem a willing enough victim in most cases."

"'Tis true, I do enjoy my table pursuits very well. Surely, Mistress Cullen wouldn't miss a small sliver of this delicacy? Liver pie is a rare treat to me, for all that some do not care for it. My mouth fair waters from the aroma."

"I am learning 'tis often the case with offal; one either loves it or hates it, and no middle ground between. Now, Mr. Jasper, Mistress Volturi claims my lady will not have the good of the pie unless she devours every bit. I shall cut you a hunk of cheese instead. Would that satisfy you?"

Sighing like a bellows, Jasper said, "I suppose I have no recourse, then." He gave one last longing look at the thing. Perhaps he could inveigle a mort of the pie from Bella when she appeared. He was sure she wouldn't mind sharing. But for now, cheese would do well enough.

"Thank you kindly, miss. I knew you wouldn't leave me to starve."

"Never would I, sir. Now please, if you would, tell me of your travels since you last were here? Did you see any giants?"

Settling down on a stool at the table where Angela was working he said in an ominous voice, "Not one giant, miss, but I did see an old dragon…" and then he was off, spinning a yarn at his poor Godmother's expense, but much to the delight of the girl.

* * *

Rosalie was correct. Bella was unhappy that she hadn't awakened her when Jasper and Alice arrived but she could forgive her because she knew that Rose had her best interests at heart. She had taken a long bath after her picnic lunch with Edward, washed her hair and sat upon the divan in front of the banked fire brushing it until it was dry. She had only meant to shut her eyes for a short time but soon had fallen into a comfortable, rejuvenating sleep. She hadn't heard Jasper and Alice arrive but reckoned they had come when she heard footsteps walking across the floor above.

She quickly got dressed in her new gown, liking how the cut set off her small waist without the need of cumbersome panniers. As she brushed her hair, she was pleased to note it had finally reached the length that she could pin it up in a more elegant fashion with a little lace cap to set it off. She noticed also, that the color was back in her cheeks and she felt she soon would have all her strength if she continued to take proper care. But now, there was work to do and guests to welcome.

She found the Whitlocks and Rosalie at their ease in the sitting room. Seeing her in the doorway, Jasper jumped to his feet and bowed, "Mistress Cullen, 'tis a pleasure to behold you again."

"Welcome, Mr. Whitlock," Bella said as she curtsied first to Jasper then turning to Alice, curtsied again, "and to you, Mrs. Whitlock. Much happiness upon your nuptials."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cullen, but please be calling me Alice. I feel as though we are already dear friends."

"If I will call you Alice, then you shall call me Isabella. I am that glad the two of you have arrived. We have been looking forward to your coming for many days." Bella waved the Whitlocks back to their seats and sat down herself near the tea tray and began to pour out the tea.

Jasper spoke as she handed him his cup, "My dear Isabella, you are looking in the bloom of health, quite lovely in fact; but, Rosalie says you have been under the weather of late."

"Aye, that I have but only a little. I am feeling quite myself this afternoon and am hoping my malaise has completely passed. I do apologize for not being available to welcome you when you arrived. I know Rosalie served well in my place, however. I hope you found all to your liking?"

"We are well pleased, madam, well pleased indeed."

"Please do tell me of what has transpired since you were last in these parts. I know bits and pieces of your tale but I would have the whole of it now, if you would be so kind to tell us."

Jasper and Alice spent the better part of an hour regaling Bella and Rosalie with the tale of their elopement and marriage and because it was Jasper and his lively wife telling the saga, both of the Cullen ladies were soon wiping tears of laughter away with their handkerchiefs.

"Dear sir, my side hurts from laughing so much! From what you relate, I don't believe Williamsburg will ever be the same after your time there. It's a wonder your Godmother is still speaking to you."

"I've always been fortunate that, though she would be loath to admit it, Godmama loves my scamperous ways and takes great delight in regaling all her crone friends with my escapades for years after I have committed them."

Bella turned to Alice and said, "You've taken on quite a challenge with this rascal."

"Indeed I have, Isabella. I've soon learned, though, to fight fire with fire. I can out-scamp Mr. Whitlock when I have a need to."

Bella giggled at Jasper's stunned look and stood, "It seems you've met your match, Jasper. Now, I must go below stairs and see to things there. Please excuse me."

Rosalie also made her excuses and followed Bella downstairs to find her sister-in-law staring uncertainly at the pie their neighbor had brought her. Angela had been sent on an errand and so was not in the kitchen.

"You're not going to eat that are you?" Rose asked.

"To be truthful, I don't think I could stand it. My stomach is curling from just the sight and smell of the thing."

"'Tis horrid, isn't it? What are you going to tell Mrs. Volturi?"

"I am going to wash her dish as clean as can be, wrap up a dozen of my strawberry tarts and carry them over to her, thank her very kindly for her thoughtfulness, then ask if she noticed that the bloom in my cheek has returned and leave it at that."

"You're a sly one, sister, and I am sure no one here would tell her differently. But truly, Bella, do we have to keep the thing in here? I am sure the smell is enough to turn even Jasper off his food." Neither lady knew of the man's fondness for such fare.

"No, I shall take it outside and dump it in the slop bucket for Jake to pick up."

"Alas, he came just this morning and so the pie will sit out there for several days before he will return again."

Bella was standing near the window and from the corner of her eye saw a flash of movement in the yard. She looked to see the bedraggled dog back and nosing around her flower beds. A contemplative look settled on her face. "I do believe I know what I shall do with the pie. I am sure there are some creatures that aren't as particular as we are."

She picked up the pie and took it outside.

"You dog! Come. I've a treat for ye." Bella squatted down in a sheltered spot where she couldn't be seen from any of the surrounding houses—heaven forbid that Mrs. Volturi should see what she was doing—and put the pie down on the ground.

"Here ye go, you fine dog. I am sure you'll enjoy this. I've seen dogs eat worse in my day, I have." She half expected the dog to ravenously consume the treat but was surprised that after one sniff, he backed up and refused to take even the smallest bite.

"Come now, dog. Most other curs would have gobbled this up quicker than a sailor downing pint after a long voyage. Don't you want it?"

The dog backed up even more and whined.

In her most cajoling voice she said, "Of course you want this delicious pie. It's a favorite among your canine friends, I promise you. Take it! Enjoy!"

The dog still refused and with a yip, turned around and ran off.

"Hmmm, such strange behavior. Well, I shall leave it in slops bucket. The dog may change its mind and come back."

Bella brushed off her hands and returned to the house to find her husband had come home and was ensconced in the sitting room with the Whitlocks. Bella's smile was incandescent when she spied him as she entered the room. "Edward, this is an unexpected pleasure. You're back early from Mr. Chase's."

Edward and Jasper, like the gentlemen they were, had risen when Bella entered the room. Edward held out his hand to her and said, "I finished my tasks early, my dear. I was very glad to come home to find Jasper and Alice had arrived."

Taking his hand, she said,"'Tis a happy day for us, that's certain."

"And us as well." Jasper stood and offered his arm to his wife. "I think we shall go up to dress for the meal."

"We are none too formal on Charles Street, Jasper. Please be comfortable and we shall meet again at supper," Bella said as she took her husband's hand.

"That we will, Madam."

After the two had left the room, Edward turned to Bella and held her at arm's length. "You look beautifully, my Bella. That dress is very comely. You're so lovely that it takes my breath away."

"Thank you. It pleases me that I please you."

"I take delight in you in more than one way, wife. I've missed you." Since they were alone, he pulled her into his arms so that he could kiss her properly.

Bella said, "You act as though we've been parted for days rather than hours."

"It seems that way." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and then a not so gentle one on her lips. It always amazed her how quickly he could fan the flames of her desire for him.

"Alas, Edward," she whispered, "that we are not alone in this house for I am sorely tempted to put back supper." Her thumb traced the curve of his bottom lip.

He nipped at its tip and responded, "It is certain that I shall plead the need for an early night. I have a great yearning to have you in our bed. But, temptress that you are, I have news."

"News?"

"Aye. Samuel Chase is of the opinion that I should stand before the bar sooner rather than later, and then join him in the practice of law as soon as may be."

"You don't mean it!" Bella gasped in delight.

"I do mean it, m'love. He proposed the idea to me today. We shall be in fine fettle soon enough." He was grinning in delight and started to dance her around the room. "We shall have not a worry in the world."

Bella laughed at his exuberance and let him literally sweep her off her feet.

"But first, sir, we must have our supper and I need to go down to see if Rosalie needs my assistance."

Just then, the knocker sounded on the front door and Emmett was welcomed into their midst. Jasper and Alice came down from their ablutions and it passed that the men were content to wait smoking their pipes in the library while the ladies put the finishing touches on the meal. Together, they all had a jolly supper, full of tales and laughter. As the last cover was being removed, Jasper cast a puzzled eye at Bella's plate and asked, "Madam Cullen, did you not partake of that delectable liver pie Mrs. Volturi brought you?"

Looking a little embarrassed, Bella admitted, "In truth, I couldn't stomach the thought of it, sir. Please do not let on to Mrs. Volturi that I couldn't eat it. I have no wish to hurt her feelings."

"Your secret is safe with me, I am sure, but since you don't want it, do you think I might partake? I dearly love liver pie."

"Oh, dear, I'm afraid I put it out for the dog that has been loitering in the back lately. Oddly enough, I offered it to him but he wouldn't touch it, imagine that?"

Jasper's face fell. "That's a very real shame. Who knew the dogs of Annapolis were so choosy? I suppose it is not salvagable?"

"No, sir. I fear I put it in the slops bucket," Bella said with a frown.

"It doesn't say much for your palate, friend, that a dog would refuse what you would savor," Edward teased.

Bella reached out and put her hand over Jasper's as it lay upon the table and said, "I am sorry Jasper. I shall ask the method of Mrs. Volturi and make you your own pie."

"Over my dying body," Rosalie muttered. "It was a foul stench it created." Bella didn't echo Rose's sentiments but she heartily agreed with her in silence. It would be a trial indeed to prepare the pie but she had no heart to deny such an engaging rascal and friend something he relished.

As they were cleaning up after supper, Bella was given yet another thing to puzzle. When she went out to put the table scraps in the slops bucket, she was surprised to find it was now completely empty.

The liver pie was gone. There was not a crumb left.

**AN: The bar was an actual place. Think of a railing with the men administering the examination sitting behind a table on one side, and the nervous prospective lawyer on the other. This test was not written as it was an oral exam and very grueling, lasting days sometimes. If you knew your examiners, perhaps they'd cut you some slack, or perhaps they wouldn't if they didn't like you. **

**In order to make a proper pot of tea, Bella taught Angela to fill the teapot with hot water to warm it first. The hot water is then dumped and then fresh steaming water is added to actually brew the tea.**

* * *

**Chapter 27: Cordiality and Bedlamites**

* * *

Bella sat at her dressing table and brushed her hair. She was glad to have washed it this afternoon because the candle light seemed to bring out its luster even more than usual. She sighed happily as she looked around the chamber. The drapes were drawn, the fire banked and their bed turned down. She was dressed in what she hoped was her most fetching nightgown. Now, all that was needed was her husband to appreciate it.

Remembering their heated looks and kisses they had shared earlier in the day, she didn't think he'd be too long in appearing. After their supper, Emmett had said his goodbyes as he had an early start the next morning. Jasper and Edward had disappeared into the study and she, Rosalie and Alice, all a-giggle, had made their way upstairs. Jessica had followed her lady into her chamber to help Alice prepare for the night to come.

Bella had arched her brow as she watched the door shut on the mistress and her maid. She had wondered what it would be like to have a lady's maid. In truth, she couldn't see the need for it herself, unless one tended to wear complicated clothing. As Bella made all of her own garments, she purposely constructed them to be convenient for her to deal with on her own. She rather preferred it that way. Besides, she didn't want any other woman to observe the trouble she was taking to look especially winsome for her husband this evening.

Finally, she heard the gentlemen's steps as they ascended the stairs. There was laughter and goodnights, then the chamber door opened and Edward quietly entered, closing it behind him.

Leaning against the door he said, "I thought you would already be abed, my love."

"I waited for you." Bella arose and turned to face him. The candlelight cast a glow about her and her soft beauty caused Edward's breath to catch for a moment.

He swallowed the sudden knot in his throat and smiled, "I am glad for that. I shall join you shortly."

He quickly disrobed as Bella climbed into their bed and sat up against the bolster pillow, her hands folded demurely in her lap while her not so demure eyes watched as he peeled off his garments. He was such a fine looking man and she marveled at her luck in being his wife. She was truly blessed. Her love overflowed and she was buoyed upon the flood of it.

As he got into bed, she leaned over and blew out the candles sending the room into darkness leaving only the moon's glow sifting through the gap in the drapes to shine upon them in their resting place. She contentedly placed her head upon his shoulder as he pulled her into his arms.

He pushed the hair back from her brow and looked down into her moonlit features. Reverently, he quoted,

"_More lovely than the monarch of the sky_

_In wanton Arethusa's azured arms:_

_Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air_

_And none but thou shalt be my paramour."_

His finger traced her features, noting the sudden tears that appeared in her eyes. "Why dost thou weep?"

"For joy, my heart," she whispered and then weaving her fingers through his hair, she pressed her lips to his with an intensity she'd never shown before. Soon, he was proving to her that she was indeed his fair paramour as night shirt and gown were discarded and hearts, souls, and bodies joined in the blissful dance of perfect love.

* * *

_Thunk._

_Thud._

_Thunk._

There was something satisfying about kneading, Bella thought. Her skilled hands worked the dough against the floured board as it smoothed and stretched until it was just right. Her body was as sure as her hands in doing what was needed to produce perfect loaves for her baking that day.

_Thud. Thunk._

She was doing the morning baking as well as preparing the berry tarts she had thought to give the Volturis when she would return their dish later in the day. She looked over at the bowl of strawberries Angela had picked first thing that morning smiling at their ruby-colored skin. The tarts seemed to be a favorite of all who had tried them and she hoped her neighbors would agree. She wasn't quite sure, however. The Volturis' tastes seemed to be of a peculiar nature to her. After all, Mrs. Volturi had promised her liver pie was something to savor but Bella didn't quite see the appeal. Her stomach gave a small lurch when she thought of the noxious concoction she had thrown out the day before. But evidently someone or something must have enjoyed it, for it was missing from the slop bucket soon after it had been put there.

The loaves needed to rise once more before she could put them into the oven, so she sat them to the side and went to the sink to wash her hands. She looked out of the window and was surprised that her little dog friend was nowhere to be seen. He was usually hanging about this time of day, hoping for a scrap or two. Perhaps he'd appear later. She purposefully scraped the remains of breakfast into an old, cracked plate that she'd give to him when he would finally appear.

She had forgotten to discuss the dog with Edward last night. She smiled as she remembered she had most certainly been distracted. In fact, the pleasantness of the activity was a puzzle to her. She wasn't sure that marital relations were supposed to be so enjoyable. Didn't the ladies in Mrs. Cope's shop do nothing but complain about them? But maybe their husbands weren't as handsome and loving as Edward. That was probably the case, for surely there would be none to compare to her dear man.

She was lucky indeed. She prayed that her life would continue along such a happy vein.

* * *

Jane paid the carriageman as she alighted from the conveyance in front of her home. She had spent most of yesterday and last evening with Miss Lucy Steele, an idiot of a girl who was always importuning herself upon any she perceived to be high in the instep. Evidently, Miss Steele considered Jane Volturi as one of those. There had been an evening of cards and dancing and Jane was glad to have the excuse to be away from home that particular night. No one would suspect her if she hadn't been at home, would they?

She looked about the street in anticipation. If all went well, the hussy next door would have all ready met the Almighty and then she could sweep in and comfort the widower; she would become his angel of mercy. She smiled to herself as she thought of his certain gratitude in the aftermath. But as she looked, she realized that all seemed to be quiet on Charles Street. The Cullens' house appeared as though nothing was out of the ordinary at the moment but then, houses could hide a story or two, couldn't they? Hers certainly had for years.

She turned to climb the stairs to her home and was surprised to see the shutters still closed. That was odd indeed. Though a rather empty-headed woman, her mother was meticulous about household routines and the shutters should have been opened long since. Even more strange was that the front door was locked when she tried it.

She knocked and stood awaiting an answer to her summons but no one came to the door. Could they all be out? But no, she couldn't remember anything on her mother's appointment book for the morning. In fact, her mother asked her to be sure to be back before noon as they both had to attend the dressmakers after dinner. She knocked again wondering what could be amiss until she finally went down the porch stairs and around to the kitchen door in the back of the house.

She found it unlocked but there was no sign of Demetri and Chelsea in the kitchen at a time when someone should have been working on the midday meal. As Jane walked into the kitchen, a horrible stench enveloped her and she fairly gagged from the odor. She dug around in her reticule for her handkerchief and held it to her nose as she investigated the source of the stink.

Peering into their servant's chamber, she saw two still figures lying abed, with basins filled with vomitus on either side of their bedstead. She groaned in disgust. She knew they had been raiding her father's wine cellar nightly and this must be the result of another evening spent in this pursuit. They were worthless thieves. She would have to convince father to sack them.

Outraged, she spun around and stormed up the stairs to the main floor. It was no longer a mystery as to why nothing had been accomplished in the house that day. Her parents were probably in their chambers, still resting. It wasn't unusual for her father to be abed this late. However, her mother must have taken a stronger dose than usual of laudanum to send her to sleep last evening and its effects had led to a later than usual morning.

She opened the shutters that fronted the house thinking the sunlight would dispel the gloom that seemed to fill the house and perhaps some of the smell. As she turned from the windows in the dining room, she saw the supper dishes from the night before were still on the table. That was very strange. She'd never heard of such sloppy housekeeping happening before. Her mother would never stand for it.

But then her blue eyes widened as she noticed the empty plate sitting upon the side board. With a faltering step, she picked up the dish and examined it closely. She knew it to be the vessel used to make large meat pies in. Fear caused her hand to shake as she tried to discern what had been in the dish. She gasped when she recognized the bits and pieces that were left.

Liver pie.

In horror, she dropped the plate and it shattered on the floor. Liver pie was eaten in this house? It was supposed to have been for the whore next door but, no. It was consumed here—in her home—by her family. A cold hand of dread gripped her throat as she realized what could be the result of this debacle.

"Mother!" she cried as she wheeled around and stumbled out of the room.

* * *

"Mr. Cullen, I see no use for you to tarry here when you can easily accomplish your preparations at home. In fact, it may be easier for you there since you would be without the dulcet noises of my children's play as they thunder about in their nursery above stairs."

Just then, there was a particularly loud crash above them followed by shrieks of childish laughter. Edward grimaced but with a smile on his face, "You do have a point, Samuel. I can revise at home quite well, I think."

"You have a week's time to prepare?"

"A little less than that. I hope I shall be prepared."

"It would make no matter if you had a year to prepare. You would always feel as though it weren't enough."

"'Tis the nature of the beast, I suppose."

Bidding Mr. Chase goodbye, Edward quickly gathered his materials and left for home. He hoped that the distraction there in the form of his lovely wife wouldn't be more of an interruption that the Chase children were here, although he knew she very well could be without meaning to. His self-discipline would be tested to the highest degree to keep his nose in his books and his hands off of his woman. But it would be pleasant to be close to her, just the same. He couldn't wait to see the smile on her face when he arrived home earlier than usual.

* * *

Jane dashed into her mother's bedroom to find the lady prostrate upon her bed.

"Mother!" Jane called as she put one knee upon the mattress. "Mother! Can you hear me?"

Sulpicia raised a weak hand and mumbled, "Oh, child…so sick."

"Did you eat the liver pie?" Jane's voice shook with urgency.

"Liv…er pie?" was the weak response.

"Yes, mother, the pie that was to be sent to Mistress Cullen. Did you eat it instead?"

"Yes…and no…"

"What do you mean?" Jane grabbed one of her mother's hands to will strength into her and sense into her words.

"Stupid girl…bought beef's liver instead of calves'. Too much for small pie so…we made a big one and shared…" Her voice dwindled to a faint moan.

"You used the spices that I had set out?"

"Ah…yes…doubled them…ergg. So sick. Janey…have the doctor come…"

"Oh mother! The pie was meant for her, not you."

"What?" The sick woman shook her head, not able to process what Jane said. "Get…doctor." Sulpicia's voice was a whisper now.

Jane stood and shook her head. "Oh, mother. I can't do that. Then they will know."

Sulpicia's dimming sight watched without understanding as Jane backed out of the room. She hoped her daughter would get help soon. She was not able to believe Jane would fail her in this. The poor woman then shut her eyes, giving over to the illness that was consuming her.

Jane left her mother's room, her mind aflurry. When she peeked into her father's room, she saw him moaning in agony, completely unaware that she was in his room. Not wanting to talk to him, she shut the door noiselessly. What a doomed moment it was when she decided to trust her stupid mother and an even more senseless maid to prepare the pie for Mrs. Cullen. She had laid out the method so easily for them and they hadn't followed it just the same. She stamped her foot. It served them right to be falling ill and it would serve them right if they should die.

Jane's only hope now was that Isabella Cullen ate her share as well. That much tainted spice should be enough to kill. Perhaps something could be salvaged from this mess.

* * *

The tarts freshly baked, Bella arranged them on the scoured plate that Sulpicia had brought the pie in the day before and covered them with a starched napkin.

"Angela, put the other tarts away in the larder and make sure Mr. Jasper doesn't know they're about. I'd like to serve them at tea time today and if he knows of their existance, we'll never keep him from nibbling, the scoundrel."

Angela laughed and did as she was told. Bella climbed the stairs to put on her bonnet before making a morning visit next door. Usually, she'd never dream of making a house call this earlyin the day but since Mrs. Volturi herself had done it before, she felt it wouldn't be out of place for her to do the same.

She knocked on the neighbor's door and was surprised at how long it took for her hail to finally be answered. Finally, she heard steps approach and the door was surprisingly opened by the daughter of the house, Miss Jane.

But the girl was seemingly even more surprised than Bella. Instead of a sociable welcome, Jane's eyes widened in shock and she hissed, "YOU!"

**AN: **

_**High in the instep**_** means upper class or someone who considers themselves as such. The theory went that those sorts had high insteps as they didn't have to do hard physical labor that would cause their arches to fall. No Dr. Scholls in those days, I am afraid.**

**Bedlamites - From ****_Bedlam,_**** alternative name of the English lunatic asylum, ****_Bethlem Royal Hospital_**** (royal hospital from 1375, mental hospital from 1403) (earlier ****_St Mary of Bethlehem outside Bishopsgate,_**** hospice in existence from 1329, priory established 1247), sense used to mean "a place or situation of madness and chaos". Bedlam as name of hospital attested 1450. Phonologically, corruption of Bethlem, itself a corruption of Bethlehem.**

* * *

**Chapter 28: Amanita Phalloides**

* * *

"_You!" _

Jane's face drained of all color and her eyes were wide in shock.

"Aye, Miss Jane, 'tis me, Mistress Cullen. I've come to return the dish in which your mother sent the pie and share some fresh berry tarts with your family." Bella was astonished at the girl's behavior. It was as though she had seen a ghost.

Jane gaped at her for a moment, not moving, not saying anything more. Bella decided to help her along, so she said slowly, "Is your dear mother at home this morning?"

Blinking rapidly, Jane inhaled deeply as though snapping out of her torpor and stepped to the side, her expression quickly smoothing over into one of acquiescence. "Please do come in, Mrs. Cullen."

Bella followed the girl into the sitting room and sat on the chair Jane indicated. Bella couldn't help but notice a strange odor in the air, as though something had spoiled in the larder. It must be pretty rank for the smell to reach the front of the house. It was passing strange.

"My mother is unwell this morning and so I am afraid she will be unable to attend you."

"Oh, my dear, I am sorry to hear it! Is there anything I can do for the lady?" Perhaps sickness had been the source of the reek.

"No. I think time will be the only answer to her misery." Jane spoke as thought she'd no wish to continue the subject. The girl stared at the dish Bella was still holding and a crafty look flashed across Jane's face as she asked, "How did you find the liver pie, madam?"

Bella's color rose. She hated to prevaricate. "In truth, I am not fond of liver and couldn't enjoy the dish, I am afraid. I do, however, truly appreciate the kindness in which you and your mother gave me. Indeed, I thank you."

"So you did not partake of the pie?"

"No. I am afraid I did not."

"Did anyone in your household try it?"

Bella was wondering at the girl's persistence but she answered honestly, "No, it did not seem to suit anyone in the house, or so I thought. Later on, Mr. Whitlock mentioned he had quite a liking for the dish but by that point, the pie had been put out. I promised to get the receipt from your dear mother this morn, if she would be so kind, so that I could make a pie especially for him."

"I will be happy to share the method with you. Please excuse me so that I may fetch it hither." Jane rose as Bella nodded her compliance.

As Jane went from the room, her mind was in turmoil. Her plans had been thoroughly thwarted. Isabella Cullen had thrown out the poisoned liver pie and her family ate their share instead. What a thorough-going farce!

Jane felt her anger begin to bloom. First her mother's stupid mishandling of the tainted pie and now this? How dare that sniveling Isabella Swan come here with her tarts! She should be dead and her husband in need of solace. Jane now realized she should have undertaken the poisoning herself and not trusted the maid and her mother to do it effectively. It was evident she'd now have to take matters into her own hands.

Instead of going down to the kitchen to fetch the recipe, she went into her father's study, opened his desk drawer, and pulled out a small case. Fortunately, her father had seen fit to show her how to use the item contained within. She could hear his nasal voice now, _"'Tis best you know how to use the like of this, in the event I am not about to protect you." _Surely her father would understand the necessity of her use of it now. She had her future to protect.

She picked up the flint-lock pistol out of its case and carefully loaded it with the gunpowder and a ball-shaped bullet that were stored within in small compartments. When the pistol was loaded, she hid it behind her back and returned to the sitting room where Bella was patiently awaiting her.

"I am sorry, madam, I can't seem to locate the receipt. Perhaps I can send it later?"

Jane had taken a few steps into the room but she made no move to sit back down. Since it was impolite for Bella to remain seated, she stood. There was something about Jane Volturi that gave her goose-flesh in the worst way. Perhaps she had now stayed long enough that she could now make her excuses, leave the tarts, and go home. With her duty done, she said, "That would be most kind of you. Now, I must leave as I am sure you have your hands full with your mother being unwell."

Jane's entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat from calm placidity to animal fury as she snarled, "Yes, you _must_ leave—in fact, you _must_ leave the face of the earth; the sooner, the better."

With that, Jane brought the gun from behind her back and leveled it at the astounded Bella. Smirking, the crazed girl squinted one eye, aimed at Bella's heart and, just as her father had taught her, slowly squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Edward whistled as he bounded up his Charles Street porch stairs and used the key he kept in his pocketbook to open the front door.

"Isabella, I'm home!" he shouted merrily. There was no answer, but he could hear someone climbing the stairs from the kitchen below and soon Jasper was joining him in the foyer. The rascally man was wiping crumbs from his lips with a handkerchief.

"Good morning, Edward. Your lovely bride has gone next door to pay a call on Mrs. Volturi. She was bringing a plate over to them to return the favor of their liver pie."

Edward nodded. He expected Bella would do such a thing. It was all part and parcel of being a good neighbor. "So what did she bring to the Volturis?" Edward was eyeing the smudge of strawberry filling Jasper still had on the corner of his mouth.

"Simply the most delicious berry tarts I have ever had the pleasure of tasting! Your wife can sure bake a treat, Edward. I know I shall put on three stone living under your roof."

Edward clapped his friend on the back and laughed. "I think we all shall be victims of good eating at the tender hands of our lady-folk—but, tell me, how long has Mrs. Cullen been away from home?"

"Oh, I saw her as she left before I went down to the kitchen to ferret out the source of that delicious aroma. I would suppose she's been gone more than a quarter of an hour. I must say, Missy Angela was miffed that I discovered the tarts hiding in the larder. What are they for, if not to eat?" Jasper looked a bit put out.

"Indeed, sir."

Though Edward commiserated with his friend about the purpose of tarts, irate maids notwithstanding, he was still thinking about his wife and so steered the subject back. "Perhaps, I should go over to join Isabella in her visit?" He wanted to see her as soon as he could.

"You'd brave that lion's den? I wouldn't if I were you. You couldn't find a more painfully pretentious family if you searched the whole of Maryland. If you go, the visit will be unnecessarily prolonged, I am sure. As it stands, Isabella has spent her obligatory fifteen minutes and can leave soon. Why don't you wait? Surely, she'll be home in a trice."

Edward started to answer, when the unmistakable pop of a firearm could be heard coming from the direction of the Volturi's household through the foyer's open windows. His breath stopped as he stared at Jasper's surprised face, and then without thinking further, dashed out of his house desperately calling out his wife's name with Jasper following closely upon his heels.

* * *

Bella watched Jane level the pistol at her and thought,_ "What in God's name does that girl think she's doing?"_

But instead of shocking Bella into inaction, the hoyden's crazed behavior sent the doughty lady back to her roots. Isabella Maria Swan Cullen may be a gentleman's wife now but there was a time when she had to live closer to the earth, as one might say. She knew not to allow circumstances to control her and she knew how to dissuade an attack.

The moment Jane cocked her head to aim, Bella took the heavy tart-laden dish she was holding and flung it as hard as she could at Jane's upraised arm. The platter crashed into the girl just as she fired causing the ball to fly wide of its mark.

"_She actually tried to harm me! She must be mad! How dare she?" _Bella thought.

She felt her temper explode and without thinking further, she flew at Jane, knocking her to floor amidst the broken plate and ruined tarts. Jane dropped the pistol in the melee and it skidded out of reach across the floor. Bella straddled the prone, befuddled girl and wrenched her arms up behind her back to hold her captive.

"How now, miss! What, by Jove's witness, were you trying to do?" Bella asked, her flaring temper making her voice raspy. As Jane's shock at the sudden turn of events evaporated, she started to struggle but before she could answer, Edward and Jasper burst into the room.

"Isabella! What's to do here?" Both gentlemen stood and gaped at the scene the girls presented. Bella's skirts were hoisted around her hips, her well-shaped and bestockinged legs were gripping the struggling Miss Volturi's hips as her hands held the young miss' arms behind her back. The remains of several strawberry tarts had left their fillings in streaks along the floor and across Miss Jane's peeved face. Bella's own countenance was red from temper and there was a determined look about her as she bent Jane to her will.

Bella looked up at her bemused and amazed husband and exclaimed, "This vixen tried to shoot me!"

"We heard the shot," Edward said as he reached to help his wife.

"Miss Jane, you will behave yourself and we'll assist you. Do you comprehend?" Jasper stooped down, ready to grab her if she should decide not to cooperate.

The girl grunted in frustration but stopped struggling. When the men were sure she had ceased, Edward helped Bella to her feet as Jasper assisted Jane.

"I've never seen a body take on so over a rejected dish afore," Bella said huffily as she straightened her skirts and smoothed her cap.

"What?" Edward and Jasper chorused.

"Miss Jane had asked me point blank if I had eaten the liver pie her mother had brought me yesterday and I had explained that I couldn't as it didn't agree with me. I did tell her, though, that I wanted the recipe for you, Mr. Jasper. She left the room to get it but instead came back with that pistol yonder and tried to shoot me with it." Bella stamped her foot in anger as she spoke and glared at Jane.

Edward was half aghast at Bella's close call and half in awe at her gloriousness. He had always loved and esteemed her but at this moment he fairly worshipped her. Her eyes were sparkling with righteous fury and the color was high in her cheeks. She was magnificent in appearance and disposition and he felt entirely unworthy of her.

But before he could get lost in his adoration, Jane growled and said, "I cared not about the liver pie, you adder, but _you _should have eaten it. _You_ should be dead. In fact, y_ou must die!_"

She lunged towards Bella but Edward intervened and grabbed her arms to hold her back. "Now, enough of that, miss. You are making no sense at all. Where are your parents?"

Jane struggled as she said, "They are abed and sick unto death. _They_ ate the pie, you see. _They_ are the ones dead and dying as she was supposed to but no… it was them."

Then, Jane let out a wail and collapsed in Edward's arms. He was able to shuffle her over to a chair where he set her down gently. She slumped over to the side and stayed that way.

Turning to his wife he said, "Isabella, I will stay here and watch Miss Jane. Could you and Jasper go and check upon Mr. and Mrs. Volturi? I can hardly believe her tale." Edward stayed behind as he wanted to insure Jane couldn't further her attack on Bella.

Nodding, Bella went out into the hall. Jasper, who looked at the spoiled tarts scattered across the floor regretfully, followed her.

Jane started to moan and rock back and forth but she kept her eyes tightly shut as Edward watched her. He was astounded at what had just transpired and didn't know exactly what to think. A few minutes later, Jasper rushed in the room, a grave look on his face.

Edward asked, "Where's my wife?"

"She stayed upstairs with Mrs. Volturi, who is indeed very ill. Bella asks that we fetch the doctor as soon as may be."

Jasper looked askance at Jane and then added softly, "Alas, a doctor would not now serve Mr. Volturi nor the servants. They are no longer of this world."

Edward gasped in horror and said, "Dear friend, could you fetch the doctor and then ask the constable to attend us here? Let the ladies next door know what has happened, as well. Bella will need their help. I will keep my own eye on Miss Jane until the authorities have come."

Jasper nodded and was quickly off to attend to his various errands, Edward turned to watch Jane, who had now opened her eyes and was staring at him as she absently used the corner of her apron to wipe the remains of berry tart from her face.

He sat down nearby but didn't utter a word. He hardly had a clue as to how he should talk to the girl. It was clear she had committed a series of heinous crimes but, in his opinion, it was equally clear she had lost her mind entirely. What does one say to someone so utterly deranged?

His internal discussion became moot when Jane herself started a conversation. "We shall have such a bonnie life, Mr. Cullen, after all this has passed."

"A bonnie life? What do you mean?"

"When we shall marry, of course—we shall go along so beautifully. Of course, we shall have to wait a suitable time after she dies before we wed. It wouldn't do to have people gossip."

It was like looking at a snake, Edward thought. Her flat eyes showed no emotion and only her hands twisting her apron into knots betrayed any agitation. He decided just to go along with her, fearing another outburst if he thwarted her. "It never would do to incite gossip, that is true."

"But Mr. Cullen, why did you have to marry that servant? She would have served well enough in a less exalted capacity. It was certainly a shame you did so and I've had to go to so much trouble because of it. I would have looked the other way had you decided upon a liaison with her. I know men do these things."

"You are most generous, miss." Edward could hardly form the words.

"My father will be glad to call you son. He will be sure to indulge your every wish as long as I am happy."

"I shall thank him for his kindness."

Jane paused, a puzzled look on her brow. "But he is dead now, isn't he? Isn't that what Mr. Whitlock claimed? My father is dead?"

Edward nodded. "How did he die, do you think?"

"It was the pie. He ate the pie, that fool. I had added some _Amanita _to the liver pie my mother…" she stopped as if struck with a thought. "Where is my mother, Mr. Cullen, do you know?"

"I believe she is upstairs in her chamber."

"Ah, it is very late for her to still be abed. Perhaps she took too much laudanum last night?"

Edward shrugged. "Perhaps. So, pray tell, what is _Amanita_? I have never heard of it."

"_Amanita Phalloides_. You may know it as the death cap mushroom. They are harvested in the late winter or early spring and there was a bumper crop of them this past season." She laughed as she stared at her fingers not aware of the look of revulsion on Edward's face at her words.

"I suppose one must be careful not to pick the wrong fungus at that time of the year?" Edward said, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Aye, that's certain. It only takes a little to destroy a family." She chuckled. "Just ask your Aunt Abigail, she would know!" Her giggles quickly grew into insane laughter.

"What do you mean? What did Aunt Abigail have to do with the mushrooms?" He felt a sense of dread as the details of his aunt's demise occurred to him.

"Old Peter always had a craving for wild mushrooms, didn't you know? So, I brought him a basketfull one day last winter. He was so pleased, he had Charlotte cook them up right away and the whole family partook."

She laughed again. "I was surprised at how efficacious they were. I only wanted your Aunt to die from them but it was just as well to get the girls out of the way, too. Peter and Charlotte were old and it was past time for them to die. They didn't matter." Her off-handedness at her deeds stunned him. She was a monster who acted without mercy.

"But why did you want my aunt to die? I don't understand."

"It was simple, really. I had heard her tell my mother that you were her heir and that you were to marry one of her daughters. You had just left Annapolis for Alexandria and it was uncertain when you'd return, if ever. I knew that if Abigail Cullen died you'd have to return and, even better, claim your estate and live here, just the next door over from me. It seemed so simple, so perfect, and it was for a time. But then, you had to marry that…that…that slattern. I shall take care of her, as well, don't you worry. I've more of the mushrooms in my chest."

Edward felt his stomach heave as though he was going to puke. He could no longer sit and listen to her so calmly detail the deaths of his Aunt and her family and her threats against his Bella. He could hardly stand to be in the same room; nay, even the same house as this vile creature. As soon as the authorities came, he was going to take Bella and leave. He shuddered to think he could have lost his love to this child's deluded fantasies.

Soon, Rosalie and Alice appeared, and went to work assisting Bella and righting the horror that had happened in that house. With them, Mrs. Crowley bustled in, a severe look on her face as she surveyed Jane. "Leave the lass to me, Mr. Cullen. You are needed elsewhere."

The quiet Charles Street soon became frenzied chaos with the constable and his men taking charge and onlookers hanging about, trying to see what had happened and to whom it had happened to. The constable took a detailed account of Jane revelations from Edward and asked Bella to relate her near escape to him as well. Jane was insensible again and would howl for Edward at some times or for her mother at others.

The doctor determined that Mrs. Volturi had a chance of surviving as apparently she didn't eat more than a bite of the pie. It was fortunate that the effects of the laudanum she took daily left her with little appetite but she was going to have a very difficult few days just the same. The Physician recruited some experienced neighbor ladies to tend to Sulpicia and relieved Mrs. Whitlock and the Cullen ladies of her care.

Eventually, the remains of Demetri, Chelsea and Aro were laid out in the front room and arrangements for their quick burials were made for the next morning. Eventually, the constable took Miss Jane away to be locked up in gaol. And since there was now nothing much to look at, the gapers and lay abouts wandered away leaving Charles Street to its quiet once again.

Mrs. Crowley had organized some of her friends to tidy up the Volturi residence and so at last, Bella and Edward were able to return to their home. Earlier in the day, Rosalie and Angela had prepared a light luncheon for all who were at the Volturi's house but that was hours ago. It was now fairly close to supper.

As they entered their home, Bella turned to Edward and said, "I must go down to the kitchen to check on supper's progress. With all the distress, I've not even thought of it until now."

Edward reached for her hand and said, "Belay that a moment, my dear."

He led her into his study and shut the door, then pulled her into his arms and just held her. "To think how closely I came to losing you, Isabella. It hardly bears contemplating."

"The good Lord was watching out for us all, Edward. It is fortunate that Mrs. Volturi didn't deliver a beef steak pie instead. I dearly love those."

"We avoided disaster here, thank God, but what a tragedy for Mrs. Volturi. I had no notion at how deranged young Jane was, did you?"

"She never spoke much in company and seemed like an ordinary sort of girl just out in society but I will admit there was something strange about her. I could never put my finger on it but she made the fine hair stand on my neck whenever she was about."

Edward kissed Bella's brow then lifted her chin so he could reach her lips. "I shall never let you out of my sight again."

"I think you shall live a most dull life, then. My daily tasks are fairly mundane."

"Nothing can be boring for me when I am with you but I am earnest when I say I shall not leave your side until James James has been accounted for."

Bella gasped. "I had forgotten about him! And to think the greatest danger was next door all along and we never knew it."

"There is still the danger of Mr. James, however, and we well know of his threat. Please let me be your companion until my fear is eased. It would slay me if a hair on your head were harmed."

"I do understand your fear and I will let you shepherd me…I trust you'll get bored before too long, even if Mr. Chase doesn't miss you."

"The very man has released me to study at home for my examination. That's why I arrived at the Volturis when I did. I am sure I can carry a book with me as I follow you about."

She laughed. "Edward, I promise not to be out of your sight but I shall endeavor not to make you look foolish, as well. I can't imagine what the men of Annapolis would think of you always trailing my skirts."

"I care not."

"You will if you need their custom as a lawyer."

By the expression on his face, she could tell he hadn't thought that far along. She patted his cheek. "Don't fret, I will be looking about for you just as you are for me." She stood on her tip toes and kissed him, relishing the softness of his lips and undercurrent of passion that was ever present when she was close to him.

Sighing, she whispered, "Now, I must see to supper."

They both left the study and went down to the kitchen. Bella found all in order there, supper not needing to be put back too much longer than usual. Rose and Angela were busy preparing the various dishes for the evening and so she suggested that Edward sit at the table near the window-and out of the way-and she would bring him a cup of tea. As she was filling the kettle with water from the pump, she happened to notice her little dog friend pacing around in the back yard. She was relieved to see him apparently healthy. Evidently, he wasn't the one to have eaten the fatal pie.

"Oh Edward, I wish for you to meet someone." She picked up the plate she had made up with scraps from breakfast earlier in the day and led Edward outside to meet the pup.

"Here, lad! I've got you some bits and pieces," she called. The dog ran towards Bella but paid no attention to the plate she sat down for him. He barked and ran to the alley along the back of their property.

"That's so surprising. Yesterday, he did the same when I offered him the liver pie. He wouldn't take it, perhaps he could smell the poison in it, but this food is fine as we made it ourselves. I am sure he is hungry now."

"He's such a bedraggled dog." Edward was doubtful.

"But he's very sweet, truly Edward. I want to keep him, if you will agree."

"I can find you a much nicer dog than that."

Bella looked askance at her husband, "But he's the one I want. He's a good, friendly animal."

Edward smiled, shrugged his shoulders at the strangeness of women and said, "Whatever you wish."

The dog saw the couple hadn't followed him and so he ran back and barked frantically then ran to the alley again. Edward and Bella watched him curiously.

"It seems he wants us to follow him," Bella said.

"He's quite insistent, isn't he?" The couple started to follow the dog that then gave a yip and ran, hell for leather, down the alleyway to a grove of pine trees at the end of the lane. He ran under a low hanging bough, paused, then scampered back to the two following him, then turned to return to the tree.

"There's something there," Edward said, making out a dark shape lying next to the trunk of the tree. The dog sat and whined until Edward and Bella got close.

"Oh, my stars, Edward. 'Tis a man!"

"Wait here and I will see." Bella stayed a few yards off as Edward bent down and rolled the man over.

"He's dead."

As she gingerly edged closer, Bella could see more of the man's features and gasped.

"'Tis Mr. James!"

Edward looked sharply at his wife, "Is it? What befell him?"

Bella pointed to the remains of the infamous liver pie that was lying next to the body. "It seems Mr. James was the one who took the pie I threw out into the slop bucket last night. Jane unwittingly found another victim."

"Truly, it couldn't have found a more deserving target. We must report this to the constable immediately, my love. Come."

As they hurried up the alley, Edward said, "The dog must have been James' companion."

"It seems so."

"How long has it been loitering in our back yard?"

"Must be I noticed him a week or more ago."

Edward suddenly sat down on a low stone wall that bordered the lane and put his head in his hands.

"What's amiss, my love?" Bella asked in surprise.

He shook his head and muttered, "It seems that death was all around you and I did nothing to keep you safe. 'Twas the reason I so impetuously married you, so that I could protect you from danger, and I failed."

Bella blinked, then put her hand on Edward's shoulder and said, "You may have married me to keep me safe but I married you for other reasons entirely. I had fallen in love with you and desired nothing more than to live my life with you. These last months have been as paradise to me. You've made me a very happy woman."

He raised his head and gazed into her eyes, "I should have done more to protect you."

"Edward, look at me. Am I not hale and hearty? James was about, it is true, but his whereabouts were unbeknownst to us—as well as the constable, mind you—but you kept me safe from him, didn't you? He never laid a hand on me. Jane's madness was a danger that we couldn't have predicted but I daresay, if you hadn't have kept me safe, she would have acted weeks ago. We will never know the times you saved me by your devotion and forethought."

She paused a moment and studied him thoughtfully. "Tell me, sir, would you have wed me even had I not been in danger?"

He stood and took her hands in his. "I would have, with my whole heart and soul. Maybe not for some time; perhaps after I had become more solvent and could better support you so you wouldn't have to work as hard as you've had to but I had thought of nothing else from almost the beginning."

She grinned teasingly. "And aren't you glad you didn't have to wait that long? It happens that I love taking care of you and our home. I love sharing our meals. I love mending and making your clothes, but especially, I love sharing our bed. I am _that_ glad I didn't have to wait for our life together to begin. I wouldn't have my life—and you—any other way. You and I were fated to be, Edward Cullen, now and forever more."

His love for her blazed in his eyes and, even though they were standing in the lane during broad daylight and could easily be seen by the casual observer, he crushed her to his chest and kissed her with every bit of adoration and love that he posessed.

After some intense, breathless moments, he said, "Now, let us see to that sad man and find a place for our dog to sleep."

And with her hand tenderly tucked into his elbow, Edward escorted his lady back home.

**AN: Men used pocket books in those days. They were actually large walletish sorts of things that folded shut sort of like books, were made out of cloth or leather, and were kept in their coat pockets; hence, pocket books. Clever, eh?**

**British people still weigh themselves in stones. One stone equals fourteen pounds (or about 6.4 kg). I am not going to tell you how many stones I weigh but it's pretty close to an entire quarry. **

_**Amanita Phalloides **_** actually do exist and this is the Latin name for Death Cap Mushrooms.**

**Chapter 29: Epilogue: April 2, 1771**

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

**Annapolis, Maryland, April 2nd, 1771**

Angela bustled into the sitting room and set the tray down on a low table next to Bella's chair. Her mistress smiled her thanks as she peered over the top of Mother Esme's chatty letter that she had received that day. Angela had grown much over the past year and now knew the household routines as well as Bella. She wasn't quite as skilled as Bella but that would only take time and practice. She had proven to be a most valuable servant.

It was a cold, wet morning and outside the windows on Charles Street a fog obscured everything in a damp, grey mist. Angela poked the fire and added a few more logs to keep the room warm for her mistress. The pop and crackle of the flames sounded homey in the silence of the morning.

"Thank you, Angela," Bella murmured as the girl shyly smiled, bobbed a curtsy and scurried out of the room. Bella knew the maid had plenty of work to do for there was no one to help her any longer. As of last month, all their friends had left and it was oddly quiet around the house. She smiled to realize there seemed to be just as much work to do in caring for three people as there was in caring for the eight that they had housed for close to half a year.

Bella rested her feet on a small footstool and leaned back in her chair with a small huff of vexation. Sitting still simply wasn't in her nature. She had been cautioned to take her ease but she found it a more onerous task than cleaning this house had been for the first time.

She sighed happily as she thought of the year past. It had been a year ago that she first set foot on Maryland soil and met her destiny in the form of one Edward Cullen. She was reminded of this anniversary earlier that morning when she was kissed awake by her sweet husband.

"A year ago today was the beginning of the best of my life," he whispered.

"'Twas?" she mumbled, sleep and love making her voice husky. "How so?"

"It was the first day I saw your sweet countenance, the first day I heard your dear voice, the first day you arrived on Charles Street."

"Now that you mention it, I suppose it was and, my how I've turned your life topsy-turvy since!" The happiness in her eyes was echoed by the smile on his face.

"I've a wish to celebrate it," he said as his fingers traced down her back to cup her bottom.

"And I do believe I know the proper manner in which to do so."

"Do you, madam?" He teased her night gown up to her waist.

"Indeed, I do." With that she sat up, pushed him over onto his back, and crawled over his body until she straddled his hips. Leaning over she rubbed against Sir Edward, who of course was ever ready to do his duty, and whispered, "Just like this…"

Her kiss was fervent as her fingers combed his hair and their bodies reconnected in love and desire and joy. They had found this arrangement was easier in recent weeks. Bella was also pleased to discover that being the mistress over the master of her heart was satisfying in its own way. She loved to watch as he arched his back and rolled his head into the bolster when he reached his climax. It seemed lately she could never have enough of this—of him. So, it wasn't very surprising at all that they were tardy in getting downstairs that morning but she thought the time was well spent.

Bella smiled to think of when she saw him for the very first time. Even though he had been suffering from the after-effects of too many bottles the night before, she was instantly drawn to him but then, most women would have been. He was comely for certain and, though young, had an air of command about him. Still, it had taken him a little longer to warm up to her but soon his feelings for her echoed hers for him.

The events that surrounded their first months together still caused her to wonder how they had survived but they did, thank the Blessed Lord. Recent months had been less danger-filled but not less eventful.

She pulled her wool shawl tighter around her shoulders as she gazed into the fire and remembered. Poor Sulpicia Volturi. She had barely recovered from her accidental poisoning, only to find her husband and servants had died and the center of her life, her daughter, had been the cause of it. It became obvious to anyone who saw Jane after her plot to marry Edward had been foiled that the girl had lost her mind. It had been easy for the doctor to declare her insane and she had been shipped off to a hospital for mental disturbances in Philadelphia where she was doomed to spend the rest of her life.

Mrs. Volturi had decided that she would sell out in Annapolis and move back to Philadelphia to be closer to her family connections and so that she could visit Jane in the asylum. Bella would never forget the frail woman as she had paid her final visit before leaving town. Gone were the flamboyant clothes, the superior attitude, and the flighty mannerisms. She had reminded Bella of a ship that had lost the wind, its once proud sails hanging limply from the skeleton of its masts, adrift, rudderless and doomed.

The poor woman had suffered blow after blow, the final one had been to discover that her husband had gambled away the majority of their fortune during his nightly pursuits. Even the wine cellar that he had bought from Edward was, for all intents and purposes, gone. It seemed that Demetri and Chelsea had spent their last months in a constant state of inebriation. All had been shocked to discover the wine vault was nearly bare. Edward had bought the few bottles that had remained back from Sulpicia in an attempt to help ease her financial woes but it hadn't raised much.

However, after the poor woman had moved away, that left a fine Charles Street residence empty. Emmett's father, consummate businessman that he was, had decided it was a good investment and so he had bought it at a bargain price. Typically, potential buyers would shy away from a house where a triple murder had been committed and so, that was why the price had been set so low; however, Rosalie and Emmett were from sensible stock and had no qualms about living there. They had moved into it a few months after they had married. They seemed happy enough and it was quite nice having family just next door.

However, though her mother-in-law would never admit it, Bella thought she had caught Esme shuffling an Anglican priest into the old Volturi residence before the young couple had taken residence. Dear Esme had wanted to insure her children's lives weren't blighted by lingering evil spirits that may have been left behind.

Edward had successfully stood before the bar, though it had been a nerve-wracking experience as it was meant to be. Bella had been proud to make his lawyering robes and had ordered the finest wig to wear with it. She had to admit, her husband looked kingly in his judicial regalia.

Though he knew it was part of the required costume, Edward didn't like wearing wigs. He claimed they caused his blood to boil over, as they did for many. In fact, most men of fashion wore wigs and eased their accompanying over-heating by shaving themselves bald and affixing the wig onto their heads with beeswax. Bella was very glad that Edward had decided not to follow their example. She loved his hair and would have grieved had it been shorn.

Without him ever saying, she knew he bore with the discomfort of the wig because she preferred him with hair. Therefore, she made sure she was always ready at the end of a day in court, to take lavender scented water and wash his hair clean. He had told her it wasn't necessary but she loved to do it. Caring for him had become a remarkable joy for her.

Now that he was practicing alongside Mr. Chase, he found he was doing the lion's share of work. Samuel was becoming more and more entangled in the political fortunes of the colony and it took him away from Annapolis as often as not. But it was a good thing; for it more than made up the income Edward had lost from the McCarty's and Whitlock's rent.

There had been some sad news during that happy time as well. At the beginning of Lent, word came that Jasper's father had unexpectedly succumbed to an apoplexy and, thus, their very good friends had to leave Annapolis for Alexandria to allow Jasper to take over the reins of his family's enterprises.

That was an unhappy day for Bella indeed, for she had developed quite a fondness for the charming couple. She had sent them off with a box of tarts made from strawberries she had preserved during the previous summer. She had actually hidden them in her linen cupboard to keep Jasper's keen appetite and blandishments from finding and consuming the whole lot. Never was there a more grateful person than Mr. Whitlock when he saw what the box contained. He'd never quite gotten over Bella spoiling the tarts the day Jane's nefarious plot had been exposed.

She could still hear Alice's fervent promise to return to help when she was needed. Of course, Mother Esme was planning on moving into Charles Street in a month or so and soon she had no doubt the peace she and Edward were enjoying now would evaporate as quickly as the morning mist seemed to be fading outside.

Tired of sitting for the moment, she arose to stand at the window and watch the sun push its strengthening rays through the fog. She basked in an errant beam that had found its way through the clouds. The calendar claimed that spring was here but it couldn't be told by the weather. Perhaps this warming sun was its harbinger? Bella certainly hoped so. The winter mists had chilled her right to her bones.

Peering down the street, she could make out two figures hurrying toward her home. Her heart leaped gladly when she recognized one of them as her husband. It was early for him to return. But who was with him? She'd never seen the man before in her life.

She turned to ring the bell for Angela to ask for fresh refreshments to be prepared for the men. She peeked into the mirror above the mantel to check that her hair, which had finally grown out to a more womanly length, was in order. Pinching her cheeks she turned to await the gentlemen whom she could hear just entering the house.

"Isabella!" Edward called as he ushered his companion into her cozy sitting room. "How do you go, this morning?"

"As well as ever, my dear." She smiled warmly at her husband, then turned to the man who was with him.

"Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Jonathan Fines, late from Portsmouth."

"Portsmouth? That is my old home, sir!" Bella exclaimed as she curtsied.

Mr. Fines courteously sketched a bow. "Well do I know it, Mrs. Cullen. 'Tis a pleasure to meet ye at last."

Bella was surprised. "Oh? Have you come all this way a purpose to meet me?"

"That I have, madam. I have quite a tale to tell ye."

At that moment, Angela arrived and Bella gave her swift instructions to bring up a tray and some fresh tea. Then, turning to Mr. Fines and Edward she said, "Please do make yourself at ease, sir. I know that tale telling is an arduous task, so let me fortify you before you attempt the chore."

She carefully sank down into her own chair and smiled at the man, truly curious as to his visit.

"It seems my dear, your old vessel, _The Patience_, once again docked in Annapolis yesterday with Mr. Fines aboard as a passenger," Edward said.

"That is almost a year to the day of my own arrival! I trust your passage was smoothly as my own did?"

"Aye, madam, it did. Captain Laurent is as a canny sailor as any there are. We made a good voyage."

Though Bella was burning with curiosity, she remembered her manners and made polite conversation until after Angela brought up a fresh tray. As Bella poured both men their tea, Mr. Fines said, "Mrs. Cullen, I have come here as an emissary for both your Godmother, who is safe and well, and Lord John Wallop, the Earl of Portsmouth."

Bella almost dropped the teapot, she was so startled. Edward reached over to take it from her grasp as she stared in shock at Mr. Fines. "My Godmother? The…the… Earl of Portsmouth?"

She remembered seeing the fancy carriage now and again with the Earl's coat of arms emblazoned on the side as it had been driven through town but she had never had any dealings with the noble family. They had circulated in entirely different spheres than she. In fact, she was sure she had been as noticeable to them as a fly would have been to her father's old bull.

"Aye, madam. His Lordship is keenly interested in doing some business with you but first, your Godmother wishes you to read this letter." He reached into his coat pocket and fetched out a thick packet and handed it to the stunned lady.

"In the year since I've arrived in Annapolis, I had not heard a word of my dear Godmother. I've been so troubled about her."

"She is well, madam, but it seems the letters you wrote to both Mrs. Cope and Mrs. Cheney went astray. You had addressed them to the ladies in Portsmouth, it is true, but the post misdirected them to Portsmouth, _Virginia_ rather than Portsmouth, _England_. Your letters sat on this side of the Atlantic, unopened and unread for many months until finally someone who had more wit than hair realized the error and sent them on to England. Both ladies received all of your correspondence at once just a few months ago. Since there was a matter of import of which you needed to be aware, it was decided to send me with Mrs. Cope's letter, thus insuring nothing would go amiss with it barring a foul sea. Thanks be to God, the seas were smooth and here I am and here it is."

"Amen, indeed, sir. But didn't my friends write to me over this past year?"

"Aye, that they did—again another confusion—but they wrote to _Miss Isabella Swan_. By the time the letters had arrived here there was no such lady in Annapolis but there was a Mrs. Isabella Cullen."

"Mr. Fines and I stopped by the post office and found your way-layed mail, my love." Edward pulled a stack of letters out of his pocket and sat them down on a nearby table.

Bella was amazed as she looked from Mr. Fines to the letter she held in her hand and the letters Edward had put upon the table. Tears arose in her eyes from relief and happiness. She didn't realize how anxious she had been about her dear mentor until Mr. Fines revealed her circumstances.

"I'm so overcome, I am sure I don't know what to say, sir, but thank you so very much, indeed," she said.

"I have to see to some business whilst I am in town, so I shall leave ye to your letters now. May I return tomorrow and we can discuss what ye find within?"

"I'm sure that will be well and good, sir. Please do come for dinner, if convenient for you."

"That would be delightful, ma'am." He rose to his feet and bowed, "Good day to you, madam, sir."

Angela was awaiting him in the hall and showed him out. After he left, Edward turned to his wife with an expectant look but was surprised to find her in tears.

"Why are you weeping?" He knelt beside her and took her hands.

"Edward, how I fretted over Mrs. Cope's fate this year past! My tears have come because it's such a relief to know she is safe. I wonder what happened to her?"

"The best way to discover that is to read her letter," he said and tenderly stroked her cheek.

"Would you read it to me? My heart is a-thumping with excitement, I am not sure I'd make good work of it."

"Certainly my dear, but come, let us read together." He pulled her to her feet then led her to the wing chair that was nearby. Sitting down, he held his arms open so that she could sit on his lap.

"Oh, Edward I'm much so unwieldy for such."

"Never, my love. Come, let me hold you." She carefully sat upon his lap and nestled against his chest.

"I had forgotten how blissful this felt," she said. His arms held her close and she rested her head on his chest listening to the beat of his steady heart.

"Then we should do this twice a day, so you will not forget again." He kissed her temple as he took the letter from her hands and lifted the seal that had held it shut. He looked at the cramped script and read:

_Shrove Tuesday, 1771_

_My dearest Isabella, _

_I cannot begin to tell you, my dear, of all the times I have thought of you this year past. I prayed to God daily to protect you and it seemed that he deigned to answer my prayers most joyously. My heart rejoiced to learn of your kind and good situation in Maryland and I went directly to church to give thanks for His protection and blessings in your life._

_Then, I returned to write this to you for, knowing you as though you were my own daughter, I am sure you were just as worried for me as I for you._

_Firstly, I shall tell you of my own circumstances, for they have been much better than we ever expected when we last met._

_It was a very good thing that you applied to Mrs. Cheney for advice before you left for Maryland. Not only did she see to your safety and comfort on your journey, but it spurred her to action on my behalf. Immediately when you left to board your ship, she visited me in my sad circumstances and cajoled me into giving her a list of all who were indebted to me. She paid a visit to everyone who had neglected their bill and in that way was able to raise enough funds for me to pay my way out of my trouble plus enough for me to live in a small but comfortable manner. _

_Mrs. Cheney claimed she always enjoyed my company and proposed that I should come to live with her and we could take our ease together. Starting another shop was out of the question for I can no longer see to sew a fine seam any longer. I accepted her offer with much satisfaction, as you can imagine, and there I have lived ever since. We get along very well together, the three of us: Mrs. Cheney, Nancy and myself._

_But this isn't the end of my story, Isabella. When Mrs. Cheney paid a visit to Lady Caroline Wallop, the Earl of Portsmouth's sister, she was greeted with incredulity. The noble lady remarked that she was quite surprised I had gone through the fortune in jewels she had given me to settle one of her bills. Upon further discussion, it was discovered that that old necklace I gave you—you remember, the pearl necklace with the golden B?—was a family heirloom. It seemed one season, Lady Wallop had overspent her allowance and disliked going to her brother for more money to settle her business with me, which I will admit, was considerable. So, she gave me that necklace. I never thought much more about it until I needed the wherewithal and was greatly disappointed when the pawnsman told me it was worthless. Little did I know that man was of little Christian fiber for he attempted to trick me out of the worth of it by telling me it was worth a pittance. You know this story. _

_But, Isabella, that necklace is valuable indeed for, according to her ladyship, it was owned at one time by old Queen Anne Boleyn herself. In fact, there are paintings in London of the Queen wearing __just that necklace__. As you can imagine, it is worth a considerable fortune. It seems that one of the Wallop ancestors on their mother's side had been a lady in waiting to the old Queen and before King Henry had separated his lady's body from her head, she gave the bauble to the Wallop and it has been passed down through the family ever since. I hope you have it still for with this letter comes an emissary of the Earl. When it was discovered that Caroline Wallop had disposed of the jewel, the Earl was much displeased and was determined to recover it at any cost. _

_Of course the necklace is yours, my dear, and you should keep it or dispose of it as you wish but it may ease your fortunes somewhat if you can come to terms with the Earl. _

_I am so happy for you, Isabella, that you have such a good and blessed life. You deserve no less. I am sure your new husband feels much benefit in having you for his wife for there's none so good as thee._

_In your letter you write that I should come and stay with you and I thank you for it my dear, but I am well settled in Portsmouth and I would dread the sea voyage. I am not as spry as I once was and I fear the journey would be too perilous for my old bones. We shall write each other and take joy in it. I look forward to your next letter with much delight._

_I shall close for now, for I am fast running out of paper and crossing my letters makes my always questionable penmanship that much more difficult to decipher. _

_With great affection,_

_I remain your loving Godmother,_

_Susan Cope_

Edward folded the letter and looked down at his wife. "It seems Mr. Banner had surmised correctly and we now have proof the necklace is what he suspected. What will you do with it, Bella?"

Bella had no qualms at all. "Why, sell it of course. I'd be afraid to keep it, much-the-less, wear it again. But, my dear husband, don't you remember? The necklace no longer belongs to me. You bought it from me for the price of my indenture."

"I had forgotten! You sold it to me so that we would be free to marry; therefore, its worth is beyond rubies to me. I am not sure I wish to part with it."

Bella sat up in his arms and looked at him as though he had gone daft. Sentiment had its place but truly, the necklace was more of a burden than anything else. She didn't notice the teasing sparkle in his eye at first but when she did, she gave his arm a small pinch. "You rogue. You were japing me."

"Of course, I was." His wife was more precious than any amount of pearls, gold, or Earl's ransom to him. The love in his heart always spilled over into his eyes whenever he looked at her. He had known what he would do with the Boleyn necklace from the first moment he was told of its origin.

"I think the jewel belongs back in England, for it is their heritage, not ours. We are of the New World, Isabella, not of the old. The fact we can benefit from the sale of it, is all to the better."

He gently placed his hand over Bella's burgeoning belly and added, "It would be good to have a legacy to offer our child that doesn't depend solely upon my ability to argue points of law in front of biased or disinterested judges."

Bella placed her hand over his and said, "I am sure baby will have a secure future simply because you are his father. No child could be more fortunate and no wife as privileged."

Suddenly, they both felt a fluttering kick against their joined hands. Bella laughed and said, "I believe, my love, our baby agrees."

The End

**AN:**

**In some Commonwealth countries, legal types still wear robes and wigs, I believe. At least that's what they were wearing on **_**Rumpole of the Bailey**_** when I used to watch it.**

**In fact, no one really knows what happened to Anne Boleyn's necklace. Since Anne was executed as a traitor, it wouldn't have been very wise for people to flaunt her belongings, whoever got her stuff. You would have thought her daughter, Elizabeth, got her jewels and perhaps she did but there's no record of her having that particular necklace. There are pictures of Elizabeth wearing two seperate initial necklaces; one with an AH and another with an A. But the B necklace disappeared. The only records we have of the necklace are the several paintings of Anne wearing it. I wouldn't be surprised if someone had pulled it apart, melted down the metal and made it over into something less remarkable.**

**People frequently kept track of the times of the year according to the liturgical calendar which the Anglican Church follows as well as the Roman Catholic church. The Anglican Church also calls their ministers priests.**

**Crossing letters. Paper was very valuable and when people wrote letters, instead of adding another sheet, they'd just turn the one they were using ninety degrees and start writing, crossing the lines they've already written. I've seen letters written like that before. They were very hard to read.**

* * *

**The following Chapters where written several months after I had finished the above story. I was in search of my muse. Though short, they are still about our two favorite Colonials, Edward and Bella.**

**Chapter 30: A Modest Proposal**

* * *

"Y'see, Mr. Cullen, I must ensure my children have someone to care for them. Sabrina, God rest her soul, was a doughty woman and certainly my help meet but now that she's gone, 'tis the children I must look to."

"And how many children do you have, sir?" Edward asked, his professional demeanor at the fore.

Mr. Clapp had been staring out of Edward's study window as he spoke, then turned to the young man at his inquiry.

"I have half the dozen, sir, a fine quiversful if I must say myself." The gentleman puffed his chest as he expounded. "My dear late wife presented me with the first not yet a year into our marriage and a child followed every year until this last."

"You have my sincere condolences, sir. What caused the lady's passing?"

"Unfortunately, God took my dear one to be with Him after the birthing of our last child. She developed child bed fever and was gone not a day after the wee babe was born." He sighed.

"'Tis a terrible, loss, I am sure, sir." Little did the gentlemen realize that he was speaking to Edward's greatest fear. His own Bella was to be delivered of a child in the near future and he was well aware that it was a perilous time for both mother and babe. If anything ever happened to his beautiful Nightingale, he'd think the grief would slay him indeed. It was a cold fear that constantly gripped his heart these days. But for the nonce, there was business to deal with. Pushing his fear aside, Edward swallowed and said, "How is it that I can assist you, sir?"

"As I said, I need to provide for my children. They require someone to care for them as their own mother is no longer here."

"Aye sir, so you have said but I don't understand how I can be of service to you." Edward was truly puzzled. He was a lawyer, not a servant broker.

"You have a maid in your employ that I think could suit my needs."

"Angela Crowley?"

"That's the one. I've seen her in the market with your wife and she seems a competent enough lass."

"She is, sir, but she is certainly an important figure in our household. I'm not sure that we will be able to part with her service."

"I am not asking for her as a servant, sir. I am asking for her as a wife."

Edward gaped at the man. He was old enough to be Angela's father. "Your wife?"

"Aye. She's active and young and knows enough to be useful but not too much so as to be fretful. I can bend the twig as I see fit, don't ye see. I don't require a dowry and can give her a fine home to be mistress of. It would be a good offer for her."

"But why are you asking me?"

"She is a member of your household; therefore, you have authority over her."

"You expect me to order her life for her?"

"Of course. What man wouldn't do so? You are the man in your house, aren't you?"

Edward scowled at him. "Aye. I am the man in my house but that does not mean I am a tyrant to those living within it. I will present this proposition to Miss Crowley. If it is appealing to her, then I wish you both well. If it isn't, then sir, you shall have to look elsewhere for someone to tend your brood."

Mr. Clapp harrumphed at Edward's forthright statement but he simply nodded. There wasn't much else he could do. "I shall return tomorrow to see as to the girl's disposition, sir. I pray that you shall prevail on her to make the wise choice."

Edward escorted Mr. Clapp to his door and watched him shove his tricorne upon his head as he stumped up the street. As he gazed after the man, Angela appeared behind him at the top of the kitchen stairs and said, "Oh, sir, I was coming to see if you and the gentleman needed refreshment."

Edward turned and said, "No, his business was brief."

Taking a moment to study his maid, he realized that in the year she had been in service in his household, she had grown into a fine young woman. She had a lithe figure and clear skin. Her dark hair was pulled back under her mob cap, but he remembered it being a lustrous shade. He was surprised to suddenly notice she was no longer the girl he thought of when he considered her. Perhaps she would be willing to take Mr. Clapp up on his offer after all. For a girl with no dowry, it would be unlikely for her to find a better offer.

Sighing he said, "Angela, there is something I wish to discuss with you. Could you come into my study for the moment?"

**AN: Angela is now fourteen and certainly old enough to marry in those days. Mr. Clapp is a lecher, in any case.**

* * *

**Chapter 31: Waiting Room**

* * *

Waiting Room

Isabella sat in her morning room and placed almost invisible stiches in the lace cap that she was making for her coming baby. A gentle smile touched her lips as she thought about the little face that, God willing, would soon be peeping out from under the frills. As though the baby understood its mother's thoughts, Bella felt a kick and she giggled as she put her hand over her burgeoning belly.

"I am sure you're carrying a fine boy, Isabella. He kicks so strongly and fills your womb to bursting seems like," remarked Esme, who was sitting across from her while working on some embroidery of her own. Carlisle and Esme, Edward's parents had come to Annapolis just the day before to be on hand when their first grandchild made his or her appearance.

Bella smiled and said, "Aye as maybe, Mother Esme, but I shall be happy with a daughter as well as a son, as long as the babe is hale and hearty."

"Surely, you would wish for a son for Edward?" Esme paused, her needle poised in the air as she frowned at her daughter-in-law.

"I suppose I would but, then, the man himself assures me he neither cares either way as long as we both the babe and I get through to the other side of it in good stead."

"That sounds like Edward. He's such a thoughtful and devoted husband."

"Indeed."

"He'll never worry about himself, never put himself before his wife, so that is why his wife should look to seeing things in his favor."

After being wed to Edward for nigh on a year, Bella was well used to Esme's methods and forebore to comment except to say, "Indeed, though I cannot have an influence over the sex of any baby we may have, I do ensure the events I have influence over I always choose in Edward's favor. To see my dear man happy brings gladness to my heart like nothing else."

Just then, there was a knock at the door immediately followed by an agitated Angela begging entrance. "Madam, I ask leave to visit my mother for a bit. Something has arisen that I need to discuss with her."

"Oh Angela, you look that put out. What be the problem?"

"Madam, I cannot say at the moment. Could I speak to my mother, please?"

Not wishing to pry, Bella asked, "Have you set out the dough to rise?"

"Aye madam, and I shall be back in time to beat it down, I do promise."

"Then, of course. Please bid Mrs. Crowley a fond hello."

"That I will ma'am." With a curtsy, Angela departed.

"What ails that girl?" Esme asked.

"I'm not sure, mother. Her manner was most unusual."

Edward chose that moment to enter his wife's domain. "My dear, I shall be attending court this afternoon. I expect to be home before supper but please don't hesitate to call for me if the need arises."

"I am sure I shall be fine but first, before you go, do you know why Angela is so overset?

"I do."

"Then will you tell it?"

"'Tis not mine to tell."

"I do hope 'tis not ill news."

"It could be good news for the lass, I am thinking, but bad news for us. Never-the-less, I mayn't say more until given leave and with that, I shall depart."

He bent to kiss his wife on her cheek, resting one hand on her belly and caressing the back of her neck with his other. When he pulled back he looked into her eyes and was lost in love for a moment until his mother said, "Edward, see that you come home at a good time. 'Tisn't just to make us wait to partake of our meal until your arrival."

Recalled to his surroundings, Edward blinked, smiled softly at his wife, then turned to his mother. "If my return is delayed, I shall send word. There's no need to wait for me and there are times I can't predict the vagaries of the law, mother. Good day, ladies."

Bowing, he left the room. Bella couldn't help but to sigh. Even if he was gone just down the road to the courthouse, she still missed him.

"I wonder what it is with your maid, Isabella? It must be fair strange that even Edward wouldn't shed light on it."

"I suppose we'll discover it in due time, mother." Holding up the cap to study it closely, she said, "I think I'm finished with this, what do you think I should make next?"

"Have you plenty of gowns? I found I could never have too many when my children were babes…" and so, successfully changing the subject to one of layettes, Bella was left to ponder the mystery of Angela's troubles in silence.

* * *

**Chapter 32: Deliberations**

* * *

"La, deary. 'Tis a great offer you have been given. We must consider wisely. Mr. Clapp has a very fine home that you'd be mistress of, and ye've always liked little children."

Angela had sought her mother out in Mr. Banner's kitchen in whose home she had been raised. Mrs. Crowley had found herself a widow not long after Angela's younger brother, Tyler, was born just around the same time that Mr. Banner found he was in need of a housekeeper and so a satisfactory arrangement was made between the two of them. Mr. Banner was content to leave the operations of his household completely to Mrs. Crowley and even developed an avuncular fondness for the two children she brought with her. Though he was happiest left alone, he cared for the well-being of his little household from the exalted distance of his study.

Mrs. Crowley, canny woman that she was, recognized the hermetic nature of her employer so she made sure to keep herself and the children from underfoot. It was a remarkably comfortable arrangement for everyone.

This day, Angela found her mother sitting at her kitchen table shelling peas for the supper meal. After a hurried explanation of the news that Mr. Josiah Clapp had asked her employer for her hand in marriage, Mrs. Crowley's first reaction was one of revulsion. She knew her Angela was a fine young woman but never considered her on the market for marriage. She was young but many girls were married off as soon as they bled, although she had no tolerance for such a practice herself. Angela had been a woman in body for nigh on a year but in her heart, Mrs. Crowley felt that her daughter was still more a girl.

But then, just as quickly, she realized this was an opportunity for the young woman, one that she never dreamed she would have. She knew, due to the circumstances of her daughter's upbringing that there was a slim chance that she could make a good marriage. Aye, she could marry one who was in equal to status as she but that would mean a life of poverty. Most well set men, or their families for that matter, would wish a dowry to accompany a bride and there was none of that for Angela. Mrs. Crowley knew that the best thing Angela could hope for would be to work in-service to a good family and she was happy to know that indeed had been where her daughter found herself now. The Cullens were about as good a family as a servant could have wished.

For all the benefits Mrs. Crowley was listing, her face wore a worried expression. "Indeed, my girl, 'tis unlikely you'd ever get a better offer or even an offer at all."

"But mama, I don't like the gentleman," Angela cried.

"What's to like or not like? He's a man like any other. No matter whom you'd marry, you'd have the same chores and duties. The only difference is in the surroundings you have to do them in, and Mr. Clapp offers a very bonny household. Besides at his age, you'll most likely outlive him and then, look at all you'd have!"

"But mother, he's got heirs. I'd like as not get anything as I cannot bring anything to him. Besides, mother, the way the man looks at me gives my stomach an ache."

"And when has he had the opportunity to look at ye, child?" Mrs. Crowley knew that it was unlikely Angela had had any dealings with the man.

"In Church, he turns in his pew and gives me such a look, as though he could rend the flesh from my bones."

"He looks at ye in anger?"

"No, not anger. As though I'm a piece of horseflesh he could ride or a joint of beef he would eat."

"I'm that surprised you even noticed him or the manner of his gaze."

"I most likely wouldn't have, mother, had he not ran into me in the market."

"Ran into you? How do you mean?"

"He near run me over! I was at the market with Mrs. Cullen, carrying her basket and this man rushed out of a shop and smashed right into me! And mother, the whole time he was helping me back onto my feet he'd grab me in places there was no need to and he ne'er said a word to me. He spoke to Mrs. Cullen but he didn't take his eyes off a me. I had a nightmare 'bout him that ev'en."

"Hmmm. What has Mr. Cullen said?"

"Mr. Cullen told me that I was to do as I wished but that it would be a sad day that I left them but he'd ne'er stand in the way of my happiness."

"Happiness? No one is promised happiness, child. But this man offers you a sureity, something you don't have now-could never have in your current situation. You'd get used to him well enough. Truly, men only care about three things, my daughter: a propserous place to put their time, a toothsome place to put their fork, and a warm place to put their cock. If you keep that in mind, then you shan't go wrong in your marriage. You will even prosper."

Angela didn't answer right away. She realized what opportunity she'd be throwing away but the thought of that man touching her made her soul curdle like milk left out too long.

"Mother, would you be very disappointed if I refused him?"

Mrs. Crowley sighed and said, "For what reason, lass?"

"My heart is not touched by Mr. Clapp."

Her mother snorted indelicately. "And so? What's your heart got to do with a thing?"

"I thought that be the reason man and maid married."

"Only in fairy tales, lass, not in life."

"But Mr. and Mrs. Cullen? She was a maid much as I and married Mr. Cullen without a dowry. They seem very happy."

Mrs. Crowley suddenly felt very old and she shook her head slowly. "In some lives such happiness exists but 'tis rare. You won't find the likes of Mr. and Mrs. Cullen often, and for them, it was only because Mr. Cullen's family gave no objection to the match but I don't know of another family that exists that would agree with them."

"Didn't you love father?"

"Herman Crowley? Hah! We met the day before we wed. Our parents made that match. But I grew to love him and he to love me. 'Tis all in the way you go about it. Now, you'd be foolish turning down such an offer from Mr. Clapp."

"But mother..." There were tears in Angela's eyes.

"None of that girl. Women in our station can't be holding out for princes for there's many more of us than there ever were of them. We have to use our common sense. You must accept Mr. Clapp. 'Tis for the best, my dear. You'll see. Now go. Get ye back to your labor for I'm sure there's none doing it for you."

* * *

**Chapter 33: Doctoring**

* * *

"Mrs. Cullen, as far as I can tell, 'tis my opinion that your babe will arrive anon. I will be but a step away when I am needed. Just send word and I shall be here within the hour."

Bella looked askance at the man. The closer she was to him the more he repulsed her.

Though, he was known in Annapolis for being a relief to women in "delicate situations," there was nothing about him that comforted her. Ever the tidy person, Bella couldn't help but observe that underneath his fancy coat and lace cuffs, he was filthy. He wore the heavy _eau de toilet_ that was popular in fashionable circles but Bella knew was designed to cover the stench of unwashed flesh. The fact he kept on adjusting his powdered wig was a sign that there were vermin living under it. She shuddered.

He had requested to examine her before the birthing but once he got in her house, Bella knew there was no way on earth that she was going to allow this man anywhere near her and her baby.

"Why thank you, Dr. Jenks. I shall keep that under advisement." She stood to usher the man out of her sitting room.

"One cannot be too careful when it comes to birthing. There's been a rash of child bed fever in Annapolis these past six months. It seems that most every prospective mother has fallen sick with it. If only I had been called sooner, I may have been able to rectify those situations." He looked greatly pained at his patient's negligence.

Bella's eyes went wide. "That's tragedy indeed! I thank you for your time in calling upon me. I shall pray that this house is spared such sadness."

She had rung the bell a few minutes before and was relieved when the chamber door opened. "Ah, here's Angela, she'll show you out. Good day, sir."

As soon as the door was shut on the man, Bella turned to her mother–in-law who had been present during the doctor's visit and said in no uncertain terms, "That man will not touch a hair on my baby's head."

"But Isabella, you heard him. There's an epidemic of fever! You needs must have the best care for your lying-in."

"And I am sure Dr. Jenks will not provide it. I will be well content with Mrs. Crowley next door. She and her friend, Dorcas Kent, have delivered plenty of babies and, besides, Mrs. Crowley is tidy about her person."

"Pish, girl. He's an educated doctor."

"He's filthy of hands and I am sure of spirit as well. No, thank you."

"_Of earth are we born and to earth we shall return_. There's no harm in a little soil."

"They also do say _Cleanliness is next to Godliness, _madam, and so I choose the Godly way. No, that man will not attend me. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to supper." And with that, Bella left her mother-in-law to stew.

* * *

Bella went down to the kitchen to find Angela on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor.

"Well-a-day, Angela, I thought you cleaned the floor this morn?"

"I did, ma'am, but I decided it needed doing again."

Bella was surprised at the girl's activity but shrugged. She knew how it was when something needed doing. There was no use putting off as the task would just prey upon one's mind until it was done.

Bella bent over to check the roast that was browning well and after pulling it back a bit from the fire she stood and happened to catch Angela mopping at her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

"Angela? What's troubling you, lass?" It was very unusual for Angela to be tearful so Bella was worried there was something terribly wrong in the girl's world.

The girl rose to her knees and looked woefully at Bella and cried, "Me mother says I must marry old Mr. Clapp!"

Bella sank down onto a chair, truly shocked. "How did this come about?"

"Mr. Clapp came here this morning and asked Mr. Cullen for me to marry."

Bella's shock fast grew to disbelief. "And what did Mr. Cullen say? Surely he didn't agree to such a scheme!"

"Mr. Cullen bid me I must do what I thought best but that if I chose to leave your home, I'd be missed. He suggested that I confer with my mother about it." Angela paused to sniff again.

"So that is why you asked to go to your mother this afternoon?"

"Yes, ma'am." Angela's lip trembled and tears filled her eyes.

Bella reached to take the girl's hand, lifted her to her feet and eased her over to the other chair. "And what did she say?"

"Sh-sh-she s-s-said that I must marry him!" And with that Angela burst into tears.

"Oh dear, dear. Shhhh…" Bella rose to comfort her maid. "Why did she say it would be a good match?"

"She said it was likely it would be my only offer and that Mr. Clapp has a fine house and I'd be in good stead as mistress there. But, madam, Mr. Clapp is near thirty years old and has six children and his wife is but two months in the grave and he looks at me as though I was his next meal!"

"You don't wish to marry him?"

"No, madam, I do not."

"Then, my dear, you must know that you'll always have a place here. You have a choice. I would be most grieved to see you leave us, just as Mr. Cullen would."

"But my mother…" Angela's brows knit together.

"Don't worry about your mother. She just wants what 'tis best for you. I shall speak to her, shall I?"

"Would you?"

"Of course." Bella knew something that perhaps Mrs. Crowley didn't. Angela's hopes weren't quite as bleak as her mother supposed.

"Oh, madam, thank you!" Angela threw herself into Bella's arms and cried in relief.

* * *

Later that evening as Edward and Bella were climbing into bed, Bella took a moment to acquaint her husband with what had passed that afternoon.

"…and I told your mother the man would not be allowed to attend me. I hope you agree, Edward. He was filthy. I'd not have him touch me."

"But, my dear, he comes highly recommended."

"By whom?"

"Well, Mrs. Sapp, said he was able to cut her labors in half with his elixirs."

"Have you spoke much to Mrs. Sapp?"

"To be truthful, only to tip my hat of a Sunday."

"Aye, then you'd not see her t'other days of the week. It would be my guess she likes Dr. Jenks' elixirs so much is because they're mostly composed of spirits. Mrs. Sapp is also mostly composed of spirits, so much so that I've rarely hear an unslurred word from her mouth."

"She's an inebriate?" Edward was surprised.

"Aye. My dear, truly I shall be well with Mrs. Crowley and Mrs. Kent. I know it in my heart as well as my head."

Edward held his arms out so that Bella could lie close to him. He pulled her closer still. "As you wish, m'dear. I will write the gentleman tomorrow morning and tell him his services will not be needed."

"Thank you." Bella settled her head down on Edward's shoulder. Then she said, "Oh, and there is one more letter you must compose."

"Aye?"

"To one Mr. Clapp."

"The man who wants Angela to marry?"

"The very one. Tell him that his proposal, though kindly offered, unfortunately will not suit."

"That was what she and her mother decided?"

"To be honest, Mrs. Crowley told her to take him because she believed there would be no other offer for Angela due to a lack of dowry and the like. But I had no dowry and look at my happy circumstance."

"It was providence, my dear." Edward softly caressed his wife's back.

"And I do believe that providence will provide for our Angela, as well." Bella smiled, not willing to disclose what she'd been observing for the last many months.

Perhaps she could move things along in the proper direction with a hint or two. Sighing, she nestled into her husband's chest and prepared to drift off to sleep, content with what she had decided to do.

Sometimes providence needed assistance, she found.

* * *

**Chapter 34: AVisitng**

* * *

"'Tis a real pleasure for you to come a-visiting, Mrs. Cullen, but one in your condition…?" Mrs. Annabelle Crowley helped Bella into a chair, a worried frown on her normally jovial face.

"Oh la, Mrs. Crowley. I'm that tired of sitting in my morning room knitting yet another bootie or bonnet. I've done not much else these last two months and I'm feeling so pent up. Besides, your kitchen is but a step away from my own and surely the fresh air will do me very well indeed."

"Ah, but my dear when ye be feeling as though ye must turn the world upside down, that's one of the first signs your time be near!"

"And I shall have you to succor me, Mrs. Crowley. I am not a-feared besides I've missed our gossips."

"A fine lady such as ye shouldn't be gossiping with the likes of me."

"Pish. Mrs. Crowley, you were my first friend when I arrived upon these shores and I shall not reject you for any reason. Now come, no more of this and tell me how you are faring."

Pouring tea for them both, Mrs. Crowley sighed and sat across the plain deal table from her visitor. "All is as it all ways is here at Mr. Banner's but it do seem my children have found their places in the world, can you imagine? It's been a sincere worry to me for years but now that they are settled I shall fret no longer."

"You have been fretting over your children, mistress? But they are two bonny sprites. You've done well by them, I am thinking."

"But I have been worried for them, my dear. My old employer doesn't get younger and when St. Peter finally calls his name, then where will we be? There aren't many households that will take on me and my children as Mr. Banner has. It's been a great relief that their positions are soon to be secured."

Though Bella knew about Angela's plight, she didn't know of any plans for little Tyler. "What settlement has been decided for your children, then?"

"As I am sure you know, Mr. Clapp has offered for my daughter's hand. She will be well set up after she marries."

Bella's eyebrows rose. She had something to say about that situation. "And your son?"

"Ah, Tyler has been offered a place as a cabin boy on Mr. Caius' vessel. It leaves for Africky in two weeks time."

"Oh madam, that be a slaver ship!" In her distress, Bella reverted to her Portsmouth way of talking.

A shadow crossed Mrs. Crowley's face. "I do know that but it's a start for him. 'Tis hard to get a good place unless there's a stake hold for a boy. As you know, I have nothing of the like and Mr. Caius does not require such."

"But, madam, what respectable shipmaster would have a mate off of a slaver? None that I know of. Poor Tyler will be doomed to trade in men and their suffering for the rest of his life and all know that the poor creatures shipped aboard in such a manner soon spread sickness among all on the vessel, slaves and sailors alike!"

Mrs. Crowley began to tear up at Bella's words. "Well do I know it but what else am I to do?"

"Mrs. Crowley, these are such dire futures for your children. 'Tis not at all a necessisty, my dear friend, not at all." Bella reached across the table and put her hand upon the older woman's.

"How can you say otherwise? Mr. Banner isn't long for this world, I am sure. He's been coughing more than breathing lately and has started to refuse his food. The doctor just shakes his head saying the only thing that ails him is his age. I must get my children seen to before we find ourselves on the streets again. That happened once before and I will never have them go through that again."

"Annabelle, Angela will always have a place with us. We shall always do well by her, you must know this."

"I do know that, and thank ye, but Mr. Clapp offers her a household of her own. That can't compare to working as a housemaid. I mean no disparagement of your offer, my friend, 'tis just no comparison between the two."

"I think Mr. Clapp's offer, though titled as being his 'wife,' will more than likely translate to something less pleasurable for your daughter—Mr. Clapp sees her more as his unpaid servant, nurse for his children, and a fresh bit of company for his bed. She's too young for that, you must agree."

Mrs. Crowley wrung her hands and said, "She is but in her fifteenth year, I well know, but I was married at that age and she was born a year after."

"But you did like Mr. Crowley, didn't you? I think Mr. Clapp frightens Angela."

"I thought well enough of my husband, that's true, even before we wed."

"I believe Angela's life will be very hard if she marries Mr. Clapp. Annabelle, she can stop with us. Tyler can too, if it comes to that, but last I saw Mr. Banner he was a spry as a goat."

"Lately, he's been sounding more like a goat than moving like one. Listen, there he goes again."

Bella could hear Mr. Banner's hacking cough coming from above stairs. He did sound poorly, she had to admit. "Has the doctor offered any medicine to ease his trouble?"

"That Doctor Jenks prescribes nothing but that it is mostly spirits. My master is refusing to take any more of the mess and now the doctor has washed his hands of him."

"It's just as well. I've never met a more disgusting physician. I shall tell you what, Mrs. Crowley, I shall concoct my mother's cure-all for your master. I am sure it will ease his distress."

"You are most kind, my dear."

"And, Annabelle, please put aside the plans you have for your children. I pledge you that Mr. Cullen and I will see them in good stead. They both will have a settled future; besides I am not sure that Mr. Clapp's offer will be the only one Angela can ever expect."

"What do you mean by that?" The woman's eyes were round with surprise.

"I mean the next time young Jacob Black arrives to trade your scraps, note how he deals with your daughter. I do believe Cupid's bow is drawn and soon he will let his arrow fly."

"Truly! Why, I never thought the like. Jacob Black? He's a fine young man. Do ye think his family will approve?"

"I've no idea but as I remember, Jacob's sister married one of their hands last year, didn't she? They can't be too concerned with rank, if that were the case."

"That's true! That's very true!" Mrs. Crowley seemed over joyed. "What good news you bring, Mrs. Cullen. I thank you so very much."

"'Tis only good should happen to such fine people as you all are. I will never forget the help you gave me when I first arrived and I treasure our friendship. But now, I must be home. I am sure I am missed by now."

Smiling, Bella arose from her seat only to suddenly feel a flood gush down her legs.

In shock, Bella exclaimed as she looked down at the growing puddle on the floor, "Oh deary me! I've pissed myself!"

**AN: For all of you who commented that you wished Ben Cheney would rush to Angela's rescue, you may remember that Captain Benjamin Cheney's widow assisted Bella at the beginning of this tale, so there's no Ben for Angie. **

**Love you all and thank you for your lovely comments and reviews. **

* * *

**Chapter 35: Awaiting**

* * *

"Mother, have you seen Isabella?" Edward had been looking for his wife within the house but to no avail.

"Isn't she resting in her chamber?" Esme gazed up at her son while she worked upon her embroidery as she sat in the front sitting room of his Charles Street house.

"No, she's not there." Edward's brow was creased with concern.

"Then perhaps she's below stairs in the kitchen? I've told her to leave those chores to the maid but she has yet to do it."

"I've never known you to turn your kitchen over to another, mother. Mayhap her diligence is the sign of a good wife?"

Esme huffed and said, "She shall end up having that babe in the scullery if she's not more prudent."

Edward didn't answer as he was already scrambling down the kitchen stairs to find his wife but the only person there was the maid.

"Angela, have you seen Mrs. Cullen?"

"Why, yes I have, sir. She's gone next door to visit my mother for a spell. She said she'd be back in just a bit. Shall I fetch her?"

"No, Angela. I shall find her, thank you." But just as Edward went out the back door into the yard, he saw his wife gingerly making her way from Mr. Banner's house while being supported by Mrs. Crowley.

"Isabella, is all well?" Edward rushed to her side.

"Oh my dear, the day we have awaited is here. Mrs. Crowley says my waters have ruptured and the babe will arrive shortly."

"_Isabella_!" Edward cried as he scooped her up into his arms. "I shall carry you to our room."

Bella laughed and said, "Sir, you are forever sweeping me off my feet but I am well able to walk."

"You must save your strength for what comes." Edward carried her into the kitchen with Mrs. Crowley close upon his heels.

"Do take her upstairs, Mr. Cullen. Angela and I will get things started down here. Angela lass, put the water on and then set aside the cloths that have been made ready. Afterwards, go you to Mr. Banner's and carry him his dinner. Please explain what I am about and have Tyler run for Mistress Webber. He should tell her Mrs. Cullen's time has come."

"Yes, mother!" the girl exclaimed.

Edward looked into his wife's face as he carried her through the kitchen and asked, "Are you in pain, my dear."

"Not yet, but Mrs. Crowley assures me it will come."

But as Edward began to carry her up the stairs, Bella said, "Wait a moment, my love."

He paused as she called to the servant, "Angela, when you make my mother's restorative for me, make enough for Mr. Banner as well. It will do us both good."

"Yes, ma'am," Angela replied as she bobbed a curtsy.

Edward continued up the stairs. Esme had heard the commotion and came out of the sitting room to investigate the cause. "What's to do?" she asked.

"The time has come, Mother," Edward explained. "I am taking Isabella to our chamber."

"I shall send for the doctor," Esme said.

Bella clung tightly to Edward's neck and protested, "No, Mother Esme. Mrs. Crowley and Mrs. Webber will attend me. I do not want the attentions of Mr. Jenks."

"But, my dear, you need the best of care."

Bella said, "I _will_ have the best of care, thank you. No Mr. Jenks."

Edward continued carrying Bella up the stairs until he could gently lay her on their bed. He leaned over and brushed some loose curls from her forehead. "I will insure that Mr. Jenks will not come, my dear. Have no fear of that."

"Thank you, Edward. I can't imagine anything worse than having that man touch me or our child."

Before he could respond, Bella's face suddenly contorted and Mrs. Crowley, who had entered the room behind them said, "Ah, I see your pains are upon you. Now, Mr. Cullen, you leave this to us women. We'll let you know when you are needed."

Edward hated to leave the side of his wife but he knew his presence would be a distraction as she labored. "I shall be in my study, then. Please don't hesitate to call upon me if there is any need."

"You shall be the first person we inform, sir. Now, off with you so I can see to your sweet wife."

Bending over to kiss Bella on her forehead, he said simply, "God be with you, my darling," and then left the room.

Bella smiled and watched him go but then a thought struck her. "Mrs. Crowley, we neglected to tell Angela of your new opinion concerning Mr. Clapp."

As Mrs. Crowley helped Bella to her feet in order to help her disrobe she said, "Oh my dear, there will be time enough to tell her after we are done with our work here. Now, put that out of your mind my girl, we have much to do."

Edward slowly walked down the stairs to find both of his parents standing in the foyer with expectant faces.

"All we can do now is wait," he said.

"Edward, don't you think we should send for the doctor just the same?" It was clear that Esme was worried about her daughter-in-law and grandchild left to the devices of the two midwives.

"No mother, I agree with my wife. Mr. Jenks is not welcome here."

"But Edward, what do you know about the vagaries of child birth?"

"Not much, I realize, but between Mrs. Webber and Mrs. Crowley I believe my wife and child will be in good hands."

"Tch." Esme was not amused but there was little she could do when the master of the house and father of the babe in question said no. "Well then, I shall see if the maid needs assistance below."

After she bustled down the stairs, her sharp footsteps underscoring her ire, Edward turned to his father and said, "Shall we repair to my study? I believe some libation is in order."

"Of course, my son. 'Tis the only thing a gentleman can do at times like these."

Several hours later, a puffed up pigeon of a man strode up the steps of the Cullen household and rapped upon the door with the knob of his cane. After a few minutes, Angela opened the door and immediately her eyes widened and all the color drained from her face when she recognized the identity of the gentleman.

"Ah my dear, you are just the person I wished to see," Mr. Clapp pushed his way inside. Angela stood beside the doorway with her head down and hands clasped in front as though in supplication.

"Is there a place we can repair so that we can discuss something of great import?" Mr. Clapp eyed the little piece of feminine sweetness in front of him, her very youth calling to him the basest manner.

Angela looked about her and realized that though Mr. Cullen and his father were in the study, Mrs. Esme had deserted the sitting room to attend the activities upstairs.

"I believe, sir, we can go in here," she said in a shaky voice.

She led the way into the room very much like a criminal going to the gallows and certainly with close to the same fear. Though she had purposefully left the door ajar, she was distressed when Mr. Clapp shut it behind them. She gulped trying to swallow the bile that had unexpectedly arisen in her throat.

Mr. Clapp rubbed his hands together as he stalked over to where the poor girl stood. He was very pleased with what he presumed would be his future without even asking first, for truly, how could the girl refuse such a prize as he?

"Now, let us get down to business…"

* * *

**Chapter 36: A Fine Mess**

* * *

A Fine Mess

Rosalie was surprised when her knock on the Cullen's door wasn't answered. 'Twas most unusual. She found it was unlocked, though, as it normally was during the daylight hours. She had been to market and bought a surfeit of fresh peas, more than she knew to do with, so she decided to share with her brother's household.

It was quiet inside and Rosalie's puzzlement grew when she saw both Edward's study and Bella's sitting room doors closed. That was also unusual during the warmer months when the fire's heat wasn't needed to be trapped within. Most likely the women of the household were in the sitting room and so, she set her basket of goods on the sideboard in the foyer and went to the sitting room door and opened it.

The scene she was presented with was shocking indeed and Rosalie found herself speechless at first before her better senses returned and she exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this?"

There before her was that horrid man, Mr. Clapp, upon his knee before the maid. In quick appraisal, she noted the handkerchief that had been spread upon the floor before the man knelt down. His arms were flung wide as though he was expounding upon some weighty manner. The maid just stood there as though she was made of stone, her eyes downcast and every bit of color drained from her face.

Mr. Clapp scrambled red-faced to his feet, and spluttered, "A man intent upon matrimony needs privacy during the act, of course!"

"Matrimony?" exclaimed Rosalie. "To little Angela?"

The man shifted his eyes from side to side and answered, "She is of age. Your brother had no trouble with the concept."

"Pish posh. Angela Crowley is young enough to be your daughter. I am sure my brother did not give his approval on this matter. How could he?"

Angela's soft voice could barely be heard when she said, "Your brother told me that I should do as I might in accepting Mr. Clapp, ma'am."

"And is this what you want?" Rosalie asked, her voice echoing her disbelief.

"M-my mother says I should accept him."

Rosalie huffed, "Your mother isn't the one who would have to marry him. What do _you_ wish, child?"

Angela swallowed nervously and her hands were visibly shaking, "I-I-I am quite honored that Mr. Clapp would consider me in such a manner."

"See there," Mr. Clapp interjected, "She's honored to be my wife." He bent over and snatched his handkerchief from the floor.

Rosalie was flummoxed. She could see the young girl was not at all happy with this "honor" but she understood there were other aspects to consider. Just then, a a loud groan echoed throughout the house.

"Oh my word, what's that?" Rosalie asked, her eyes round as saucers.

Angela ran for the door, "'Tis madam. The babe is coming."

Rosalie hurriedly followed Angela out leaving a befuddled Mr. Clapp behind them. The study door flew open at the same time and Edward and his father stumbled out into the foyer.

"Is there something amiss?" Edward asked. He had shed his coat, his vest was unbuttoned, and his stock was loosened at his throat.

"Ah, Rosalie, you have arrived! Your sister is soon to be delivered and we but await the event," Carlisle said. He didn't appear to be as agitated as his son.

"'Tis happy news, then," Rosalie said.

"I'll be happier when 'tis over." Edward's hands worried his disordered locks as he gazed up the stairs to the second story.

"Sister, can you go up to inquire as to my wife? How goes it with her?" Edward implored.

"Aye, I shall." Rosalie nodded then turned to Angela and ignored Mr. Clapp who had followed them out into the hallway. "Could you see to these peas I've brought, my dear?"

"Yes ma'am. I shall right away." Angela took the peas and went downstairs. She was happy to escape her importuning suitor. She knew he couldn't follow her down into the servant's domain and she was fine to leave him to the devices of those above. She was relieved she hadn't had to give him her answer and happy to delay it as long as she could.

The very thought of pledging herself to that man made her stomach roil. If only there was a way to refuse him but she couldn't so dishonor her dear mother's wishes. On the surface of it she could see her mother's wisdom in making the match but oh, how she hated to do it. She knew what would be expected of her if she married him. Her mother had explained the nature of marital congress soon after she began to show blood. The thought of that man with his ample lips and thick fingers touching her body, his own flesh tearing into hers during the act caused her knees to weaken. Suddenly she found herself slumped over the kitchen table with her head in her hands as she broke down in frightened tears.

She didn't know how long she cried but eventually she was able to pull herself together enough to be about her business. She started her kitchen chores, knowing that supper would be put off tonight and most likely would only consist of a cold collation besides. She could assemble that meal quickly from the foods that were already made.

She decided to bring Mr. Banner his supper as her mother was unable to do it. Mrs. Swan's cure-all restorative had been prepared and Angela would soak some good brown bread in it to tempt his appetite a bit. Plus, though she knew it was a cowardly thing to do, going next door would put her completely out of Mr. Clapp's reach for the moment.

Mr. Banner rarely paid much attention to his household, content to let the competent Mrs. Crowley run it. On the occasion that he had any interaction with his servant's children, he was mildly avuncular and totally absent minded. Angela felt he was content to ignore their existence as long as his life ran smoothly. Her mother made sure it did.

"How's Mr. Banner doing, Tyler?" Angela asked as she climbed the stairs to the old man's first floor.

Tyler kept out from under Mr. Banner's feet but made sure to be near at hand in case he was needed. At the moment he was sitting in a hall chair reading one of the gentleman's many books.

"He's in his library working he says but he continues to cough. He's taken nothing but watered wine today."

Tyler was a handsome boy, soon to have ten summers to his credit. Angela didn't know what she would do when he finally went to sea. She recognized that one didn't pick their relatives but if she had been given the power, she would have picked Tyler. He was her playmate, friend, companion, and when necessary, champion. She knew that it would be infrequent indeed if she ever saw him after he left Annapolis for the sea and it fair broke her heart.

What a sad future they both had to look forward to.

Angela pulled her mind from such gloomy thoughts and said, "I shall take his supper to him. I hope I can tempt him to eat tonight."

Angela tapped on the door and when the old man bid her enter, she opened it and went in with Tyler close behind her.

"Mr. Banner, I have brought you some delicious soup sent by Mrs. Cullen. She claims her old mother used it to great success in easing the pains of her people in Virginia."

"Ah, did she? That's very kind of her, the dear lady. I understand a new leaf on the Cullen family tree is making its appearance this day."

"Aye, Mrs. Cullen was taken abed this morning. My mother is serving as midwife, sir, so I hope you don't mind me helping you this evening."

"No, to tell the truth young Miss Angela, I've missed your presence here."

He peered at her through his spectacles, his brow furrrowing in thought. Though an aging man, he saw a lot more than he ever revealed. The first thing he noticed the girl today was that her eyes were red and puffy and the downward turn of her mouth indicated unhappiness.

Mr. Banner was ever the analytical man. He knew that there could be two reasons for the girl's expression: she could be unhappy or she could be ill. It was time to discover which.

"How is your health, Miss?" he asked as he spooned the broth into his mouth.

"Well, sir."

"That's to the good, then, isn't it?"

"Aye, sir. I've been blessed."

He took another spoonful as he thoughtfully studied her. After he swallowed he said, "So then, dear Angela, why have you been crying?"

In surprise, Angela's gaze lifted from the carpet and looked into his kind, intelligent eyes. "Oh sir,'tisn't anything for you to worry."

"But I do worry, my dear. You are a child of my household and I would know if there is aught troubling you."

Angela just shook her head.

"Are the Cullens mistreating you?" There was steel in his voice.

"Oh no, sir! They are better than good to me."

"Then why the tears, my girl? Stop prevaricating and out with it."

"Oh sir, my mother says I must marry Mr. Clapp."

Mr. Banner was well and truly shocked. Angela was just a girl_._ Much too young to marry the likes of Josiah Clapp. That man was an imbecil, besides.

"Your mother says so?" He was incredulous.

"Aye. She says as I have no dowry this is the only chance I would ever have to marry and have a household of my own."

"You have no dowry?"

"No, sir. How could a girl such as I garner such as that?"

Mr. Banner shook his head. "This is a fine mess and I shall have to set it straight and I shall! Young Tyler! Bring me my hat and my coat. I must make a call next door."

* * *

**Chapter 37: A Child Is Born **

* * *

"Truly, Mother Esme, I doubt I can go on!" Bella's face was twisted in pain as she clung to Esme's hand. Her face was flushed and her body was contorted from the wave of pain that washed over her. Over the past hour, the pains had increased in frequency and duration and seemed overwhelming to the suffering woman.

"I do think we all felt that way in our time, my dear, but I do assure you the end is in sight. Just squeeze my hand as tightly as you please when the pains come. It will help you."

Esme's encouragement comforted a bit but Bella still shut her eyes and groaned. "I may break your hand in two."

Esme laughed. "Have no concern of that. Just bear with it and it will soon be over."

Mrs. Webber, the midwife, bustled about the room as she prepared the birthing stool and remarked, "The knife we placed under the tick has cut your pain, my dear Mrs. Cullen. Just think what it would have been like, else."

Bella grimaced, thinking the pain couldn't have been worse. Suddenly another overtook her. She clutched Esme's hand and groaned louder and louder as the contraction progressed. A good minute passed before it eased.

"That's good, madam," Mrs. Crowley said. "It won't be long until you can bring your baby into the world. The pain will ease some once you can work against it."

Bella started panting, finding that the rapid breaths helped ease her but before she knew it another pain rose up and she felt as though she would split asunder.

"Oh, holy saints above!" she cried and she felt she'd drown in the onslaught of her agony. To her surprise though, the cresting pain suddenly shifted and she felt a terrible need to move her bowels.

"Mrs. Crowley," she spluttered in surprsie, "I need the pot!"

"Oh, no you don't, dear heart. Your baby is now ready to make his appearance. Ladies, help me move Madam to the stool."

The women gathered round the bed, helped Bella to her feet and supported her as she waddled over to the short legged birthing chair waiting near the fireplace. As Mrs. Crowley and Mrs. Webber settled Bella on the stool, Esme gathered up the ends of her daughter-in-law's night gown and knotted it above her waist to keep it out of the way.

There was a soft knock on the door. The midwives and Esme exchanged a glance and nodding, Esme answered the door. Rosalie was standing there trying to peer into the room over her mother's shoulder.

"Mother, how does Isabella fare?"

"She progresses well. It will soon be over but I am needed now. Tell Edward to be at ease. Soon, he will be a father." Esme smiled and gently shut the door in the curious Rosalie's face. Though Rose was wed, she was not yet a mother and Esme felt it was best she be shielded from Bella's ordeal lest she become afeared when her time eventually came.

Mrs. Crowley was speaking softly to Bella. "Grasp the handles there, madam and when you feel the pressure, push down as hard as you will as long as you may. It won't be long 'til you'll be holding your wee babe."

As chief midwife, Mrs. Webber had spread cloths under the stool and now knelt down at the front.

The birthing chair or stool was a sturdy wooden bench that sat low to the ground and enabled a woman to be supported in a squatting position with her feet flat on the floor. The seat was open in the bottom and front, so that a baby could be born unimpeded and the midwife could easily catch him. Wooden handles were built in along the sides that Bella could grasp for leverage as she pushed the baby out.

Settled on the stool, Bella felt as though the world had contracted to just this small seat, her pain, and the strength in her legs and arms and body. She was overcome with a fierce determination she had never felt before. It ran in her and around her and through her as the compulsion to groan and press and push her baby into life. She grabbed the handles, grit her teeth and pushed, pushed, and pushed.

"Aye, madam! That's good work. Keep going." Mrs. Webber watched as the crown of the baby's head appeared, just sparse dark curls showing at first. The contraction passed and Bella threw her head back and gasped.

Esme stood on one side and watched with a lump in her throat as her grandchild began to appear. She dabbed at Bella's perspiring forehead with a lavender scented handkerchief, the aroma intended to relax and strengthen as the woman labored.

The urge to push once again rose in Bella. Gasping once, she tucked her chin, grabbed the handles and again pushed with all her might.

"Ah, madam, the head appears. What a sweet face your babe has! So dear! Bear down again, my girl, bear down!" Mrs. Webber placed her hands under the baby's head and helped guide as the shoulders were delivered.

"Again, Mrs. Cullen, again!" Mrs. Crowley cried.

Inhaling deeply, Bella bore down one more time and suddenly the baby slid into the waiting hands of the midwife.

Esme cried, "'Tis a wee lad, my daughter, a dear boy! God be praised."

**AN:**

**Birthing chairs were commonly used up until the time when men started taking over the delivery room and felt they could see better if the mother was flat on her back on a bed rather than squatting on the floor. However, it is harder to give birth while one is reclining. If you study delivery tables, you'll see they are set up with the elevated stirrups, etc., to imitate the squatting position but with a mother still flat on her back, so gravity can't assist her. Some may comment that Bella only had to push three times to bring her son into the world—and that's pretty close to the way it happens if you DON'T get an epidural, at least that's what I've observed. I think it only took four or five pushes for me to deliver my twelve pound son. **

* * *

**Chapter 38: Impatient Papa**

* * *

Edward watched his sister climb the stairs to the chamber above—the room that held all he most cherished. He'd had a silent prayer running through his heart this whole day hoping God would protect and ease his Bella. He couldn't bear to think of anything else.

Remembering his duties, he turned to his guest and said, "Good day to you, Mr. Clapp, I do apologize for not greeting you upon your arrival. I did not realize you were calling."

"No apology is needed, sir. I was here to make my proposal to Miss Crowley, so I did not see the necessity to impose upon you at this time."

"Ah. I see. Won't you join my father and me in the study for a glass? I've uncorked some very fine Madeira."

A gleam sparked in Mr. Clapp's eye and he nodded. "I won't say no to that, sir, and thank ye." And he followed the Cullen men back into Edward's book room.

As Edward decanted the wine, Mr. Clapp asked, "I understand your wife is presenting you with your first born this day."

"God willing," Edward replied—his simple response a prayer as well.

Just then, Rosalie entered the room.

"How goes my wife, sister?" Edward rushed over to her side.

"Mother said all is well at hand and you will soon be a father but bids us all patience. Do you mind if I sit with you in here? I've no wish to sit by myself until the babe comes."

"Your company is welcomed but I'm not so sure mine will be all that sanguine. I find I am filled with apprehension."

"'Tis only natural for us all to be nervous and excited, brother." Rosalie smiled and patted him on his arm.

Edward sighed as Rosalie went to select something from her work basket and take a seat near the window to make use of the good light to stitch by.

Mr. Clapp said, "I well remember when my dear wife, God rest her soul, presented me with my first born. 'Twas such a momentous day and 'twas quite a momentous child as well. Certainly he was befitting as heir to my dynasty."

Carlisle leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine, studying this pompous man who seemed impervious to social niceties. He knew his son was in no mind to entertain their guest so the burden fell to him.

"How so, sir?" he asked, his voice not conveying the disgust he felt.

"He weighed nearly three-quarters of a stone at birth."

"That's quite a healthy weight for a babe," Carlisle said, his eyes wide. Newborn babies usually weighed closer to half a stone if that much.

"Aye. It took two days for him to come into the world. My wife was fair torn in twain by the time he made his appearance and we like to lose her then. As it was, it took months before she could rise from her bed agian." The idiot man sighed and mournfully shook his head.

Edward had been pacing the floor and glancing out of the doorway to the staircase beyond, trying to discern by the creaks of the floorboards above what was occurring in the birthing chamber. However, when he heard Mr. Clapp he stopped and turned to his father, his face ashen and eyes dark with worry.

Ever the gentleman, Carlisle refrained from saying what he thought of Mr. Clapp and his untimely comments and tried to put his son's fear at ease. "That was a most unusual occurrence I am sure, Mr. Clapp.

"I well remember your birth though, son. Your mother took to her bed in the morning and by tea time you were here. As a matter of fact, when I was invited into the chamber to see you for the first time, I was surprised to see your mother sitting up in bed, sipping her tea as though given birth was nothing more than yawning." Carlisle hoped Esme never heard what he had just said for there would sure to be retribution of a wifely kind from his description of her labor that day. He was sure her recounting would be somewhat different.

But Edward appeared relieved by his father's reassurance and so he resumed pacing and was determined to ignore the stupid man who had descended upon them at this most inconvenient time.

A few minutes later there was a scrabbling at the front door and, surprised, Edward went to answer it. There on the porch stood Mr. Banner, supported on each side by one of the Crowley children. More visitors? Were they having a fete today that he had not been invited to? Was the whole town going to descend upon them this day?

He stopped wool-gathering and his manners resurfaced. "Good evening Mr. Banner. 'Tis good to see you again."

"Pish posh, young man. I am sure ye are wishing me at the devil this day and I'd never presume to intrude on ye at this time except that there's a matter of the utmost urgency that must be resolved without fail."

"Without fail? Why then, Mr. Banner, please do enter. It seems we are gathering in my study."

Edward bowed graciously with his arm extended towards that room and Mr. Banner and his entourage shuffled within.

"Ah… and there she is, my bride!" Mr. Clapp exclaimed as Angela entered the room. Edward wasn't so lost in his wife's travails that he didn't note the look of fear that crossed Angela's face.

"Your bride?" Mr. Banner said. "I think you be putting that cart well before that horse, my good man." Mr. Banner leaned heavily on Angela's arm as she helped him into the armchair Carlisle had just vacated for the old gentleman.

"How say you so? I have spoken to her employer and the girl herself. All is in order. She will wed me as soon as may be."

"Ah, you spoke did you—but did you listen?" Mr. Banner lowered his head and peered at the hapless Clapp sitting across from him.

"I did, sir! Mr. Cullen gave me his blessing…"

Here Edward had to interrupt, "Actually Mr. Clapp, all I said was that Miss Crowley was free to wed as she chose and I would not sway her one way or the other."

Mr. Clapp shrugged. "And isn't that as good as permission?"

"I gave you permission to inquire, sir, not permission to wed. That is entirely up to the lass." Edward hadn't been aware that Mr. Clapp was quite so thick-headed.

"Well, I did ask the maid and she agreed to marry me."

Mr. Banner addressed the girl who was standing quietly beside his chair. "And did you agree to wed him, young woman?"

"No, sir. I only said my mother told me I should accept his offer."

"Your mother…" the gentleman shook his head. "Where is your mother?"

"She's still upstairs attending Mrs. Cullen."

Mr. Banner grasped Angela's hand in his gnarled one and asked earnestly, "My dear, did you answer the man yea or nay?"

"Mrs. McCarty interrupted us before I could answer one way or t'other, sir."

"So he's not received your final word?"

"No, sir."

"And what will your word be?"

"Enough of this!" Mr. Clapp cried out. "It matters not what she says for those in majority over the girl have agreed."

Edward was completely out of patience with this ridiculous man. "Sir, in this house Angela is in charge of her own destiny. I bid you hold your tongue and let the girl answer for herself."

Turning to Angela he asked, "Will you have him or will you not?"

All attention focused on the girl and her throat closed and she found she couldn't speak a word. She just looked from person to person in the room with tears welling in her eyes.

Just then, the wail of a new baby echoed through the house.

"The babe is here!" Edward announced.

** Madiera is actually a fortified wine along the lines of Sherry and Port. **

* * *

**Chapter 39: A Bonny Baby**

* * *

Bella sat back, exhaustion descending upon her like a blanket. She could barely gasp out, "A son?"

"Aye, a bonny boy," Esme answered, tears in her eyes as she gazed at the baby.

Mrs. Webber cleared the baby's mouth and nose, which didn't please the babe and so he gave a lusty cry.

Laughing, the midwife placed him in Bella's arms. "Here's your lad, mother. I've got a bit more to do below and then we can put you both at ease.

Bella gazed down into the face of her little boy amazed that he was hers. "How'd ye do, little man?" Her arms gently embraced him as he blinked up at her. His eyes were wise in the way of newly born infants and she became instantly enamored. It was a miracle and one she wanted to share with Edward.

"Mother Esme, could you bring Edward to me, please?"

"Of course, I will. Let us get you and the babe settled and I'm sure he'll be storming the door soon enough." Esme put her arm around her daughter-in-law and kissed her on the forehead. "I am that proud of you, lass. He's such a fine boy."

It didn't take the ladies long to arrange all so that Bella and her baby were comfortably tucked into bed.

Mrs. Crowley gathered the armful of soiled linens in a basket and said, "I'll get these to the scullery and put to soak. Mrs. Esme, I'm sure you'd be the one to share the news, though. Are ye free to come?"

"Yes. I'll go down now."

But no sooner had the two ladies descended the stairs when Edward met them at the bottom. The rest of those currently in the house clustered at the doorway of the study.

"Well, mother? What news? Is she well?" Edward reached for his mother's hand.

Esme was beaming with joy and nodded. "Aye, my boy. You have a son. God be praised, he's hale and hearty."

Those listening gave a small cry of gladness but Edward pressed on. "Is Isabella safe? Is she well?"

Esme laughed. "Yes, Edward. She's right as rain. Go on up and see for yourself."

With that, Edward stepped aside to let the ladies complete their descent and then dashed up the stairs two at the time, any sense of decorum long forgotten.

Esme went to her husband's side, her happiness and excitement reflected in his eyes. "So all is well, my dear?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes. All is well. He's a bonny babe."

She looked around in surprise at the assembled guests. "I'd no idea we had company, though."

She curtsied to Mr. Clapp and Mr. Banner. Behind the scenes, Mrs. Crowley jerked her head at her daughter and made to pass by down to the kitchen.

"Just a moment, Mrs. Crowley. There seems to be a contretemps and we need your attention," Carlisle explained as he led his wife into the study. "It seems that Mr. Clapp has offered for little Angela and we await her answer."

"Angela?" Esme's normally cultured voice rose in pitch before she realized it. "She's a might young, isn't she?"

"She's of age," Mr. Clapp interjected.

Angela was still as stone and staring down at the carpet. Her mother, having sat down the basket of linens in the hall followed the rest into the room and stood, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Well ye see, Mr. Clapp, sir…"

Mr. Banner cleared his throat. "Please allow me to set everyone's mind at ease. Mrs. Crowley, I understand you believe I'm at death's door and you will soon be homeless on the event of my demise?"

Mrs. Crowley blushed and looked away. "It will be a sad day for us, Mr. Banner, when that happens and not just because of our precarious situation. You've been a good master and kind. We'll miss you very much."

"Well, well, well. 'Tis nice to know that I am appreciated for something other than my earthly treasure but why must you think I'll shed all human decency when that event occurs? I have no natural heirs, so what makes you think I won't provide for you and yours after my death?"

"But sir, I am but your servant."

"You are more than that, madam. You and yours are the closest thing to family that I have and I have left my estate accordingly. My will states that young Tyler will inherit my house and I've settled a stipend upon you and your daughter. I will see to your son's education and will provide a modest dowry for your daughter. There's no reason to farm your children out to less than pleasant circumstances. If Angela has no wish to marry that gentleman or any other, she won't have the need."

They were all astounded at the old gentleman's revelations. This was indeed an amazing turnabout.

"Sir!" Mrs. Crowley managed to say. "I am so confounded. I never expected such generous kindness. I thank ye _most_ kindly." She ran to him and threw her arms about his frail shoulders as he sat in his chair.

"Harrumph, well, well…all's well then, woman." Mr. Banner muttered uncomfortably at Mrs. Crowley's expressions of joy.

Carlisle chuckled. "This certainly changes things, doesn't it little Miss Angela? Have you an answer for Mr. Clapp now?"

The girl heaved a relieved sigh, gathered her skirts and with head high, approached Mr. Clapp and curtsied.

"Sir," she said, "I am very mindful of the great honor you have done me by asking me to be your wife but I find I cannot accept you. I don't feel up to the great task of being your helpmeet and new mother to all your many children and I am sure you would soon tire of me in that position."

Mr. Clapp was astounded. All his plans were being turned wrong way out and now this morsel was slipping through his fingers. "I would ne'er tire of thee. You are all I shall ever want in a wife."

"Sir, I am flattered to hear that you believe you would never tire of me but let me affirm in front of all these people that I am sure I should soon tire of you. I will not marry you."

And with another swift curtsy, she swept out of the room leaving all to either admire or bemoan her spirit as their desires dictated.

Edward took the stairs two at a time and remembered himself just before bursting into the bedchamber. Taking a deep breath he paused and then rapped gently on the door. Mrs. Webber answered, her grin revealing several missing teeth.

"Ah, 'tis the proud papa, Mrs. Cullen. I must go below stairs to get your broth. Do come in Mr. Cullen and meet your fine son. I shall leave you alone, now."

Shutting the door behind him, Edward, whose eyes hadn't left those of his wife, quietly and carefully approached the bed. He had never seen such a stirring sight. It struck him to the core. She was breath taking in her beauty, her hair had been neatly brushed and laid in curls around her shoulders. He had thought he loved her entirely before but now, after seeing her arrive safely on the other side of child birth and all the fears that entailed, he realized his love was even more encompassing that he could have ever dreamed. He could scarcely breathe he was so overcome with emotion. He sat gingerly at his wife's side and only then looked down at the bundle she held.

"Little Master Cullen, I am honored to introduce you to your wonderful papa. Edward, here is your son."

She pulled the blanket away from the baby to reveal the little round face, pursed lips, tiny nose and fine strawberry blonde hair of their son.

"He's got your hair, I am thinking," Bella said.

Edward was struck speechless as he looked in wonder at the little mite. He slowly lifted his finger and gently caressed the little cheek.

"He's so soft," he whispered.

Bella smiled as she recognized the same look of wonder and adoration on Edward's face as was on her own for the lad.

"Would you like to hold him?"

"Oh…ah…not right now, I fear to harm him but let me do this…" Edward shifted closer to Bella so he could put his arm about them both and hold them close to his heart. He put his other hand on top of Bella's as it lay upon the swaddled baby and couldn't help but to tenderly kiss his wife's head. His elation knew no bounds.

"_Bliss such as thee and this, man should ne'er ask for more," _Edward quoted.

Bella nestled into Edward's arms and said, "Baby is very dear, isn't he?"

"Aye. In that he takes after his mother. Isabella, my dearest Bella…how my heart swells with love for you. Was it very bad?"

"'Twasn't easy but now I would declare it was worth every pain."

"Are you hurting?"

"Nothing to speak of. The greater of the pain seemed to pass with his birth. I feel a little soreness is all. 'Twas no worse than having a tooth pulled."

Edward frowned, "As bad as that?"

"Or, kicked by a milk cow." Bella had a mischievous twinkle in her eye, wondering if he'd remember the last time she spoke of such.

"That must have been painful." Edward swallowed, sure he didn't like to hear of her struggle and was beginning to wonder if they could somehow prevent the occasion from happening in the future.

"Almost the same as getting one's thumb caught in the door jam." She almost giggled but managed to hold back.

Edward was silent for a moment, then bent over to peer into his wife's impish face. "Isabella, you are a rogue! I well remember when you last told me such a tale!"

He leaned in to nip at her ear and blew raspberries on her neck. "If you weren't holding the babe, I'd show you how I deal with rascals such as thee!"

She laughed in delight. "You worry too much about me, my Edward. All was as it should have been during our baby's arrival and though there was pain, it is largely gone. What lingers Mrs. Kent says will pass quickly and by next week, I shall be as right as rain and can return to my housewifery."

"My love, you will have my mother, Rosalie and I am sure Alice making her appearance anon to deal with the duties of our household. I wish for you to be at ease and enjoy the pleasures of motherhood for a time before being saddled with those old burdens."

"You are very good to me, Mr. Cullen, but I fear I shall find it hard to stay abed for long."

"You've never cared for a wee one before. Wait and see how that taxes your strength before you make that decision. Besides, he needs your your tender attentions."

The baby shifted and stretched a little, then his eyes fluttered open and he stared up at his parent's faces with a very wise and wondering expression.

"Hello, our dear baby. What a handsome lad you are," Edward said.

The two doting parents gazed at their offspring and wondered if all parents felt this way over their children or were they unique in their adoration. If so, it was a wonder the world wasn't running amok with spoiled and over indulged children.

Meanwhile downstairs, Esme Cullen managed to dispatch Mr. Clapp after Angela's resounding refusal and she hoped that would be the last of that miserable man. Mr. Banner requested that Tyler help him back home and so all were gone from the place except for family. It was Esme's turn to pace as she waited a considerate time for Edward to reunite with Isabella and meet his son.

After thirty long minutes, she could wait no more. "I do believe we've given them time to acquaint themselves. Let us go upstairs and see him ourselves."

Esme, Carlisle and Rosalie trooped up the stairs and knocked softly at Edward and Bella's bedroom door and after hearing a soft welcome, filed inside.

Edward stood from the bed, bowed, and said, "My dear family, Isabella and I would like to introduce you to our son, Charles Carlisle Cullen. If he becomes half the man of his grandfathers surely he shall be considered great among the people of this new country, this America.

The end


End file.
